


The New Member

by Shadowofahunter



Category: Criminal Minds, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Derek, BAMF Spencer Reid, BAMF Stiles, Bar, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Blood and Torture, Case, Dancing, Drowning, Drunk Singing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt Stiles, Kidnapped Spencer Reid, Kidnapped Stiles, Nymphs - Freeform, Psychological Torture, Shock Collars, Stiles Feels, Stiles whump, Team as Family, Torture, Tortured Stiles Stilinski, quantico
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-09-22 10:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 60,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9604028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowofahunter/pseuds/Shadowofahunter
Summary: After losing Prentiss the team is raw, but when the new Agent Stilinski joins in her place they begin to heal.Set in season 6 and ignores the cases.





	1. No welcome mat

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired afte the season 6 winter finale. Kudos and comments are much appreciated. Enjoy!

Hotch leaned over the railing in front of his office and flicked his eyes over his team; Morgan, JJ, Reid and Rossi were all sat at their desks, Reid was hunched over a file and was scribbling in reports and notes, JJ was filtering emails brow furrowed slightly with concentration, Morgan was leaning back in his chair reading a report while one hand fiddled with his pen, Rossi was writing letters in his office. Hotch had texted Garcia so she was on her way too.  
He caught their attention, "in the meeting room. I have news" he revealed nothing more.

Reid caught Morgan's eye and raised his brow, Morgan just shrugged and tilted his head to go. JJ stood up and followed her friends to the meeting room. Suddenly Garcia was next to her and bustling close to her. Rossi paced behind the team, he watched all their body movements; he noted Reid's slightly hunched shoulders, Morgan's hand clenched tightly into a fist, Garcia's lowered head and clenched files held tightly to her chest and JJ's downcast gaze. He himself knew he too was showing the signs of grief. Held in grief. He felt it aching in his chest, a hole. Barren and cold. It would be impossible to fully heal or fill. 

Hotch looked up from the files scattering the desk and he too saw the dejected team trudge in. Rossi caught his gaze and blinked, he knew how they felt. They all felt it.  
"Do we have a case?" Rossi asked, lowering himself into his seat  
"Of a sort" Hotch replied  
The others glanced at each other, confused.  
"What do mean 'of a sort'?" JJ asked  
Hotch sucked in a deep breath, "I know everyone is still mourning Emily" instantaneously Reid dropped his gaze to his white knuckled grip in his lap and Morgan's lips thinned, "I am too." Hotch glanced at JJ who looked glazed and distant, then she looked up a glitter of hope in her eyes, was he going to tell the others what they knew?, "but I have news."  
"What is it?" Garcia asked  
"We are a team member down and we cannot afford to be so. So I decided to bring in a new member"  
All the eyes in the room stared at him, wide and shocked.  
"Who are they?" Garcia demanded, her instinctive protectiveness for her family kicking in and wanting to shield them from any new intruder. 

He stood in the elevator, gripping his few things tightly. His new suit was tight around his neck, shifting his grip so his arm looped under the box he tugged at the collar with his finger to no avail. Sighing he got proper hold of the box again and tried to stand still. However, nerves made that very difficult. He was finally in the FBI. He'd waited for years, gone through countless tests, trials and interviews. And it was the BAU. His stomach clenched at the very thought. A small smile flickered across his face, it vanished when the floor level dinged. He was here. He stepped out of the lift into a space corridor. The glass doors with the FBI logo stood before him, the hall was silent. He took a deep breath and shouldered the doors open. The bull pen was empty, scanning his eyes over the desks he tried to clam himself but his heart was racing with adrenaline and terror. Clenching his hands around the cardboard until it dug sharply into his fingers and palms he opened his eyes. His eyes were draw to some movement in the right of the room, a smaller room had six people inside. A tall man was standing with his back to him, arms held loosely at his side, he guessed that was Hotch. Three more men sat at the round table alongside two women. His team. 

He kept hold of his box and walked quickly up the stairs to the door behind which stood his new team. The door was open and their voices carried out slightly.  
"Who are they?" A woman's voice asked  
"He's new. One of the Young FBI candidates-"  
"Wait" a man's voice interrupted Hotch, he could tell it was joined by a hand gesture, probably a point with a pen or something, "you're telling me that we are getting a greenie. Completely new with no experience of what we do?" The voice was incredulous.  
"He may be new but he was the best in his group, in the year in fact. He stood out in all areas. Also he has had experience of cases before, his dad is a sheriff-"  
"There's a big difference between being a small town sheriff's kid and dealing with bodies." The voice huffed  
A female added to that statement, "Morgan's right. He may have been good with the programme but it is very different out in the field."  
"How old are they?" A softer male voice asked, he guessed that was the youngest man.  
Hotch replied, "23."  
A moment of silence. He could practically hear the eyebrows raising.  
"That's young..." a male voice replied hesitantly, the older man  
"I was only 22 when I joined" the young voice responded, he took a liking to the voice as he listened in  
"You were an exception."  
"He excelled in every aspect of the programme. Firearms, operational and tactical skills, leadership, physical. Overall he was outstanding."  
A flush of pride made him smile, all his hard work and dedication had paid off.  
"When are we going to meet him?"  
He thought it was time he made his presence known, so straightening his shoulders he closed in on the door. His heart was racing and washes of adrenaline crashed through him. The backs of the agents came into view one by one. Last was Hotch who caught sight of him,  
"Right about now."  
"What's his name?" The young man asked  
"It's Stilinski." He replied.  
All eyes latched into him  
He smiled slightly, "call me Stiles."


	2. Recruitment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so soooo much for the unbelievable kudos and comments, I am blown away by the reaction to the first chapter! I hope you enjoy this as much as the last one

As soon as he told JJ to break the false news to the team he was already formulating a plan. They'd be a team member down, thinly spread and hugely demoralised. Hotch glanced through the slit in the doors and saw Reid tightly gripping JJ's shirt, face buried in her shoulder. She too pressed her face into his neck, but her expression was mixture of false grief and heart wrenching sadness at betraying her family. Morgan held Garcia close, Rossi sat alone his hands loose in his lap and loose in his empty gaze. Hotch felt terrible doing this to his team but he could not afford Doyle nor anyone else finding about Prentiss's recovery. 

Sighing Hotch took out his phone, dialled a number and waited for the dial tone to finish,  
"Agent Hotchner" a woman's voice called down the line, her cheery tone made his present situation even more raw and unbearable.  
"Agent Morris. I need your help."  
She immediately became serious, "What do you need?"  
"Do you still run the Young FBI programme?"  
"Yes"  
"I need a new member of my team. Can I scout the recruits?"  
"You sure? I mean don't you want an older person, with more experience?"  
"No we need a completely fresh person. But they need to be the best. I'll be over tomorrow to look at them. Don't let them know I'm there."  
"I'll notify the other instructors."  
Hotch pulled the phone away from his ear but his eyes never wavered from his steady gaze at the wall.  
The doors sprang open as JJ walked in on his thoughts, "what now?" She wiped the last of her genuine tears away and took a steadying breath.  
"I've organised something." Hotch had decided he won't let any of the team in on his plan, just in case it fell through. 

The next day Hotch drove down to the Young FBI training quarters, face not revealing his slight nerves, he knew he was taking a gamble. A big gamble. The newest member could make or break the team. They had to be the best. Nothing less. 

He walked through the entrance hall, glass doors glitters at him as they opened and closed filtering people through. Hotch pushed through throngs of clustered people until he caught sight of the red hair. Altering his course Hotch strode closer to Morris.  
"Agent Morris."  
"Good to see you Agent Hotchner"  
"Likewise, did you tell anyone?"  
"Only the instructors with strict orders to not say anything. I thought you could be behind windows or watch through cctv to see them in action."  
"Good idea." Hotch gestured for Morris to lead the way

The two strode through halls, doors and up stairs in a complex maze of secrecy. Her red curls bobbing with her bubbly pace, she held a clipboard in her right hand. Hotch stayed half a pace behind her, giving her the false sense of authority. Finally they pulled up next to a small navy door, the words INSTRUCTORS ONLY were emblazoned on the door. Morris punched a code into the lock, 5832 Hotch noted. 

Inside sat two men and a wall of screens. Each showed different rooms, viewpoints, and recruits. Hotch didn't let his surprise show,  
"You've down a thorough job."  
"I've learned it helps if you're organised." She glanced around the small room and nodded at Hotch, "this should be everything you need. The hall where they'll be is two lefts then a right down the hall. I'll leave you with these two."  
"Thank you"  
Hotch watched her leave and, just as insurance, pushed the door gently after she closed it. One can never be too careful.  
"What d'you need, sir?" One of the two asked. They were sat in their seats watching Hotch. 

One was balancing his chair on the back two legs and a pen dangled from his mouth. A lopsided grin sat on his face and his arm flopped over the back of his chair. He had dark curly hair and was relatively thin. He wore a red checkered shirt and loose, faded jeans. Stylish glasses circled his eyes emphasising his large green irises. Freckles dotted his face and neck. A thin tattoo curled down past his rolled up sleeve, Hotch couldn't tell exactly what it was but he guessed either a word or some saying. The other man was his partners binary opposite. While his friend was sprawled and confident, he sat arms tight to his side and fingers near his keyboard. Mouse-brown hair flopped down nearly covering his deep brown eyes. They were continuously flicking up to Hotch then back at the floor, his keyboard or his lap. Hotch guessed he was not used to dealing with people out of his immediate group. His clothes were bland; grey t-shirt and, jeans. He was verging on overweight but only since he was slouching did he look that way. Hotch took this information in in seconds. 

Raising his chin he approached the screens, the timid man sunk even further into his seat and dropped his head, he was incredibly submissive. Probably influenced by parents or siblings. People always had a reason to come into the FBI; familial problems, vendettas or to find their own form of justice.  
"I need visual on the recruits"  
"Sure thing" the lean one replied and reached down to his keyboard, tapped a few keys and the largest screen in the middle of the wall flicked from the mess room to the recruits standing in a big empty blue walled room.  
"Agent Morris gave us a list of the most promising students so far" the timid man held out a sheet of paper with Morris' loose handwriting penned on it, Hotch noticed his hand and the paper were still, no tremble.  
"Thanks..."  
"Sam" the timid man responded, eyes flickering around  
"And I'm Elliot" the other added  
"Thanks Sam." Hotch looked at Sam and nodded his head. Sam blinked and looked down at his clenched fingers but Hotch saw his shoulders relax slightly. 

Hotch scanned the paper, none of the names meant much at the moment but soon  
they should hopefully. Raising his eyes to the screen he stepped closer,  
"They should begin soon" Elliot said

*******

Stiles was standing next to Jeremy Sanders, a tall guy with blonde hair cut in military style. Stiles hadn't changed his hair cut yet, he still had the slightly wild style. In the group of 40 there was an even split of guys and girls. Genders seemed to have taken a back seat in the course and consequently everyone was clumped together. The only time they were split was in their dorms. All of them were wearing grey t-shirts with their surnames emblazoned on the back and navy sweatpants or shorts. The only indication of their future career was the FBI logo on the left breast of their tops. Every morning after breakfast they had to meet in this hall and await instructions. 

A crash announced the instructors' entrance and they all stood straighter, two men and a woman entered. Morris led the male instructors, Bale and Fitz. Her red hair reminded him of Lydia's strawberry blonde hair and he glowed with happiness inside.  
"Separate into your allocated groups" her voice always carried, natural projection.  
The recruits did as she asked and awaited instruction. As Stiles passed Bale he noticed the big man was sweating. Nervous? Worried? Tense? Stiles noted this and fell into his place. 

"Today is your first day with real rounds. You've all passed your weapons handling tests and now you can try real bullets on targets. This is a vital part of your training..." Stiles half listened as he suddenly remembered when Braden had thrown him her pistol which he'd promptly dropped after a series of faces, flails and squawks. He glanced down at the floor and huffed a laugh. Biting his lip he raised his head again and watched as the three instructors began to order the four sections around. It wasn't just Bale that was showing signs of nerves, Fitz was continuously clenching and releasing his left hand, also his eyes flicked up to the right corner of the wall he was facing. Raising his hand, Stiles twisted his neck like he was scratching it and glanced in the same direction. A tiny glint of red told him a camera was watching their every move. Pacing in the middle of his group he thought fast, he knew they'd been watching them, it was just common sense. Judging, evaluating all the time. Why were the instructors acting different today? Something big must be happening. Whatever it was Stiles was going to be the best. He wanted this so much, if an opportunity was opening he wanted to take it. All the recruits may seem friends but he wouldn't put it passed any of them to drop them all in order to gain a place. 

********

Hotch watched the recruits as the shot round after round into paper targets. There was one who emptied his rounds with unbelievable speed, he was on his third magazine when his companions were only just finishing their first.  
"Can you zoom in on...Ganza's target sheet?"  
"Sure" Sam tapped his board and the screen flicked to a view down the range and pulled the view in on his sheet. He may be pulling them off quickly but his rounds had been flying everywhere. There was no grouping, they were spattered over the sheet. Hotch glanced at his sheet and saw Ganza on it. Pulling a pen from his pockets he crossed out the name. Even though you can teach to grouping, Hotch could tell in a real situation he'd forget it all and splatter his rounds everywhere endangering the team. 

********

Stiles watched as the group before him moved away. He's been hyper vigilant today and also kept one eye subtly on the cameras. Half way through the previous groups time he'd noted the red light on the camera directly behind the recruits flicked on. They were watching the placement of their rounds. Setting his shoulders he strode up to a range and waited to be told to pick up the pistol in front of him. The targets were changed and replaced with fresh ones.  
"Pick up your weapons."  
Stiles wiped his hands to ensure there was no sweat and picked up the gun. He checked the safety catch was on and waited.  
"With three magazines of 12 rounds, fire at will."  
Stiles thumbed off the safety and raised the pistol until his eyes were inline with the eye sight. Others were already firing. He took a breath and squeezed the trigger. The round punctured the targets right shoulder. He needed to do better, so he lingered up the pistol again and stared to fire. 

********

Hotch watched as the last group began to fire the weapons. He noticed one seems to take longer to start that the others, he was about to look away thinking his hesitation was nerves but then he saw the steadiness of his hand. He was perfectly still. The round hit the targets shoulder but immediately the recruit shifted his weight to a more central position, set his shoulders and fired once more. This round flew right where the heart would be. Hotch didn't raise his hopes yet, it could have been a fluke. However, when the third, fourth and fifth round grouped neatly around the second shot he read the name on his shirt and glanced down at the list and saw the name Stilinski on it. He was one to watch out for. Hotch spared a glance for each of the other recruits but none of them had the neat precision of Stilinski. He stared slowly with his shots but gradually picked up the pace until he was firing every few seconds.  
"He's good" Elliot let his chair fall back onto four legs and leaned closer. Hotch didn't reply but silently agreed with him, "I mean that grouping is insane."  
"Is there anything on him?" Hotch inquired  
Sam nodded and pulled up the recruits' information.  
"Son of a Sheriff...Beacon Hills?" Elliot read out loud  
"That town has had lots of problems in the last few years: murderers, monsters, disappearances. We sent out an agent and he said it was under control." Hotch replied, "Stilinski has seen enough to deserve to be in the FBI."  
"Wow..." Sam whispered  
"What?" Elliot leaned over and without realising, or he didn't care, looped his arm around Sam's shoulders, the other man didn't react Hotch noted.  
"Have you seen this guys exam scores?"  
Hotch leaned in and raised his eyebrows, he was top in every aspect. He excelled at leadership, group work, and his tactical work was outstanding.  
Hotch watched as Stilinski set down his weapon and stepped back from his post, he was smiling slightly as he looked at his target sheet. The rounds were tightly grouped in the head and chest area. A few anomalous shots but by far he was the best out of all the others. 

********

It continued for the duration of his training. Hotch would come down every other day and watch over the recruits' training. Through everything Stilinski outshone everyone. He threw himself into every aspect; whether physical, academic or weapons related he would spend extra hours practicing an improving himself. Hotch was blown away by him. He was exactly what he needed. Outside of training too he was a vivacious person, always talking and moving, confident but not to the point of being self centred. When the recruits went out to a bar he'd be the one to raise low spirits by making a fool of himself on the dance floor or karaoke or to stop anyone hurting themselves or others and would make them sit in the corner with some water. He didn't come off motherly though, more of a concerned friend. 

There was only one more part which he needed to pass. An rigorous interview. Hotch had asked to watch over it. Another agent would be taking the interview. 

Stilinski had been pulled out of his lunch break without warning and had been led into the interview room. Before he'd arrived Hotch had deliberately placed Stilinski s file, closed, on the table top. He observed as Stilinski sat at the table glanced at the folder once but didn't look again. He sat calmly waiting for someone to watch. His leg jiggled up and down, that was the only movement. Hotch was impressed, what was meant to be them watch him sweat was them watching him wait. Hotch was stunned at his calmness. He glanced at the other agent and nodded for him to enter. 

******** 

"Good afternoon mr Stilinski." The agent sat down in front of Stiles and brought out a stack of files, "many name is Agnet Simmons."  
Stiles nodded and didn't let his eyes drift to the file pile.  
"Do you know why you're here?"  
"Not really, but I can hazard a guess that something is happening or someone is here."  
"On what do you base that idea?" Simmons' eyes flickered from Stiles to is files and back.  
"For the past few weeks all the instructors have been on edge, sweaty, and short tempered. I haven't known Bale long but he seems quite chilled out, so why is he constantly folding and unfolding his arms, shifting from one foot to the other. Constantly, mind. Something is going on and I'm pretty sure it's about us."  
Stiles had been watching Simmons and saw how the agent began to shift around the files and refuse to meet his eyes, Stiles had held steady eye contact throughout his short speech.  
"I'm guessing it has something to do with all the cameras filming us like it's Big Brother. There's probably cameras and microphones in here right now" he gestured at the overhead lamp and walls  
Stiles watched the agent's face intently after he revealed what he knew, while his face didn't show any reaction, he shifted in his seat and started to pick at his fingernails. Stiles felt satisfaction run through him but was careful to restrict anything that might reveal it. 

Hotch watched as Stilinski scrutinised Agent Simmons, he was good. Very good. The whole time Hotch had thought the recruits were unaware but here was one who knew and had managed to slip past even Hotch. He looked over at Morris and nodded, he's the one.


	3. The First Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you so much for the unbelievable reaction this is getting. Honestly I am absolutely stunned and your comments and kudos mean the world to me. I never thought this would be taken so well. Thank You for waiting for this chapter, it's more of a filler for the next chapter.

"Call me Stiles"  
Six pairs of wide eyes latched onto him and he felt his hands start to sweat. Their scrutiny was intense. For a solid minute nothing was said as all the agents evaluated what was before them. He clenched the cardboard box handles to stop himself from saying anything.  
Finally Hotch broke the silence, "Stiles, glad you're here"  
"Thanks" he shifted his feet and glanced at the still staring faces, "where should I put my stuff?" He lifted the box slightly and focused on Hotch.  
"There is an empty desk on the bull pen" he pointed out the window, "furthest to the right in the corner by the stairs."  
"Umm thanks" Stiles was not usually speechless but he was intimidated by the agents, they had worked together for years and had a bond. He was the newbie, a foreign object that doesn't quite fit in. He backed out the room and hurried down the stairs to his allocated desk. 

 

He'd been briefed about the team's recent tragedy. Obviously they were still raw. You can't get over the death of a friend quickly, he knew that from personal experience. Even now, years after, he still missed Allison. 

 

Stiles was just quietly slipping his notebooks and stationary into a draw when he saw a hand sticking out in his peripheral vision. Glancing up he saw an older man before him, he had bloodhound eyes with heavy eyebrows framing them. His hair was dark brown and starting to grey, flecked through his hair were strands of silver and in his beard too.  
"David Rossi"  
"Stiles Stilinski." He took his hand and shook it  
Rossi smiled, "that's an unusual name"  
"It's not my actual name. My real name is Polish and near impossible to pronounce. So everyone calls me Stiles"  
Rossi nodded in silent acknowledgement, "sorry about the introduction in the meeting room."  
"It's fine" Stiles flapped a hand in dismissal and went to turn back to organising his desk.  
"It was just a shock." Stiles looked up, "Hotch hadn't told us that he was scouting for a new member."  
"I understand, honestly, I've had worse" Stiles smiled and thought back to him trying to calm Liam and Brett and the less than welcoming atmosphere before the lacrosse match.  
As he was speaking a woman approached them: she was lean and had long blonde hair. She was striking and Stiles gladly took her hand to shake it, "I'm Jenifer Jareau. But call me JJ"  
"Stiles"  
"I'm sure Rossi has apologised on our behalf" JJ loosely crossed her arms and glanced at her coworker  
"Honestly it really doesn't matter." He huffed a laugh 

 

Suddenly three other people stood behind them. The woman had curled blonde hair and bright clothes. Her dress was a mismatch of colours but somehow it worked. She gripped an iPad in her hand, that too had a bright case. The man next to her had his muscular arms crossed across his broad chest. His eyebrows managed to look both angry and concerned at the same time, a tattoo swirled down his left arm. His t-shirt pulled tight over his bowling ball biceps, even though Stiles had been down the gym a lot the man before clearly lived there. The guy next to him was his polar opposite - not only that he had thick brown hair - he was thin and his rolled up sleeves clarified his point. He had big brown eyes which seemed to be taking everything in. He had a thin tie loosely tied around his neck, suddenly very conscience of his own suit Stiles reached up and yanked at his too-tight collar.  
"I'm starting to feel a little over dressed" Stiles muttered, the others chuckled then mr muscles stepped forwards  
"Name's Derek Morgan" Stiles shock it and smiled, "and yeah, we are pretty relaxed about dress code. As long as it's not sweat pants you're fine." He grinned at the end of his sentence and Stiles caught a glimpse of wicked humour, Stiles flashed a smile at him and nodded. He reached up and removed his tie, threw it on his desk and shrugged off his jacket. Glancing at the last woman he waved at her unable to reach past the others,  
"Penelope Garcia" she didn't expand anymore, she seemed almost reserved  
"Hey, love your dress" Stiles responded trying to get more of a greeting from her  
"Really?" She raised a sceptical eyebrow  
"Yeah, my girlfriend's home is the shops. Trust me. I've been dragged through enough shops too know nice clothes. Apparently there is a link between your emotional state and your clothes you pick. So you must be a vibrant and cheery person" she raised both eyebrows this time, and a smile broke through her closed mask, her smile was wonderful it was full of genuine happiness,  
"You're not wrong there, sugar"  
Turning to the last man Stiles said, "last but not least..."  
"Um Spencer Reid" he raised his hand tentatively then dug it straight back into his pocket, "is Stiles your real name?"  
"No, it's Miecz- Miez- Goddamit" he bent over and ripped out a sheet of paper and wrote his name on it and handed it to Reid who read out  
"Mieczyslaw, is it Polish?"  
"Yeah from my mums' side. Quite an eclectic group: Polish" pointing at himself, "Italian" gesturing at Rossi, "and Spanish" looking at Garcia, "please tell me you have all had a big cooking session together?" Ignoring the surprised expressions of the team as he immediately knew their name nationalities.  
"Sadly this group doesn't share my love for culinary expertise" Rossi smiled  
"Well that will have to change, we need an evening when we all cook national or familial dishes. I would offer my place but it's small and moving boxes are falling out of windows"  
"Sounds like a plan. Thing is I'll just have to think of something to cook" Morgan agreed, "and not ruin."  
"Rossi your mansion would be big enough wouldn't it?" JJ grinned at her friend  
"Dude you have a mansion?!" Stiles excitedly cried out  
"It's not a mansion-"  
"Yeah the twenty odd rooms-"  
"The acres and acres of garden-"  
"Garage for expensive cars"  
"Only a small building"  
The team chuckled as Rossi frowned, "ok it's not a small house. Let's leave at that...please?"  
"Whatever dude, your house sounds awesome." Stiles laughed. His motor mouth already driving him into the team.  
"I've never been called dude before" Rossi mused  
"First time for everything. Also you should know I have no mind to mouth filter, side effect of ADHD."  
"Well mr genius over here turns into a stream of conscience when you mention anything he likes" Morgan poked his thumb at Reid who promptly turned blush red  
"It's not that bad..."  
"Guilty." Stiles waved his hand in the air, "my friends either would tell me to shut up or start a new conversation."  
"It's like having another Reid" Rossi said  
"I'm a fountain of weird knowledge." Stiles shrugged.  
"How weird?" Morgan cautiously asked  
"Well I know that the first time a flushing toilet on film was in Alf-"  
"Alfred Hitchcock's 'Psyco'" Reid finished  
"He's cloned himself" Garcia whispered in mock horror, "how else would you know that?"  
"Oh dear god help us" Morgan laughed  
Reid's eyes had widened in surprise, Stiles too was grinning, he liked Reid. He had a good feeling about him.  
"Hey Stiles" JJ spoke up, "we were going to go to a bar later. Do you want to come?"  
"Sure, thanks." He grinned at her.

 

Stiles went back to setting his desk as the others dispersed to their own. Reid turned out to be the one next to him  
"Gotta say, that fact used to be my party trick. Now I'll have find a new one"  
Reid smiled as he began to sort through piles of files, Morgan leaned back in his chair and replied, "Reid is full to the brim of facts, stats and theories. If he tells you he will have room for even more."  
"Shoot" Stiles sat back in his chair fiddling with a pen  
Reid thought for a second then decided to go for an old one, "on average there are 800 kernels of corn on a cob organised into 16 separate rows"  
Stiles nodded, "I like it. My turn" he thought for a while then said, "sticking to the fruit and veg theme, the average pea has the circumference of 8.75 mm or 0.34 inches and weighs between 0.1 and 0.36 grams"  
"Oh my god" Morgan spun his chair away in despair and rubbed his face, now he had two to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is going To be a case here, do you want it to be a supernatural creature or a normal (human) unsub?? Let me know! Thanks


	4. How About a Drink?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I've updated, this took me significantly longer than I would've liked but I hope it is worth the wait. 
> 
> Thank you so so much for the unbelievable kudos and comments, they blow me away every time. I am stunned at the reception this had got. So thank you again. 
> 
> Also seeing the comments, the sunsub will be a human but there will be a supernatural witness who plays quite a vital part of the story...
> 
> Thank you so much once again

Stiles needed to move around. He'd been sitting at his desk for hours now, since there was no case he had time to organise his various documents, fill in papers and generally sort himself out. Sighing he reached his arms high above his head and sucked in a deep breath. 

"Does anyone want a coffee or tea?" He asked around

"I'm good thanks" Morgan replied

"Could I get a coffee?" JJ asked, "milk and one sugar"

"Sure. Reid?"

"I'll come over, I know Rossi will want a coffee too"

"Great"

Both stood up and Stiles followed Reid to the little corner where a coffee machine and teapot stood. 

"I really hope this is better than the mud served at the Academy" Stiles muttered

Reid smiled as he began to make the coffee, he clearly knew where everything was he moved efficiently and smoothly. He spooned sugar-piled spoon after sugar-piled spoon into his mug, Stiles whistled,

"You want some coffee with your sugar?" 

Reid grinned as he swirled the spoon around the mug

Then Stiles turned around so his back rested on the counter, his hands pressed onto the edge, a nagging thought rose up in his mind

"How long have you been with the BAU?" He asked, the background noise of phones ringing, keyboards tapping and general chatter covered his words so only Reid could hear him

"Well I started when I was 22" he looked up as he mixed the coffee and sugar.

"22?" Stiles was surprised, "the youngest is 23 I thought?"

Reid nodded and stopped swirling the coffee, he wrapped both hands round it and stood next to Stiles, "when I was at the Academy I only excelled in the academic aspects. I failed all the physical so they made a huge exception for me." He thought for a moment, "and for you too. Normally you have to be in the FBI for at least three years get the SSA status and another ten after that to get into the BAU. How did you get in so fast?" 

"I really don't know. I was near the top of all my classes and I guess my experience from my high school years helped" 

"You studied criminology at high school?" Reid frowned

"No, my dad was a sheriff and I stole a police radio so I could hear when there was a murder. It got me into a whole lot of complications" he huffed a laugh and smiled to himself looking down at the floor

"What did you do?"

"Well my buddy, Scott, and I would go to the crime scenes and try to figure out what happened."

"Did you get it?"

"More often than not yes...in our own way..."

"By going to the crime scene, statistically, you were increasing your chances of getting caught by the unsub. If they had a narcissist personality or a sadistic one they would have wanted to return to the scene of the crime and if you and your friend were there then you greatly increased the risk of being caught or killed by that very same person." Reid rambled

"Yeah..." Stiles cast his mind back to the countless times the Pack had been attacked by another supernatural creature: Jackson the Kanima, Berserkers, Peter, the Alpha Pack, assassins, the Nogitsune, Chimeras. The list went on. Realistically it was a stupid thing to do, go after the monsters, but without their actions everyone in Beacon Hills would have been killed years ago. 

The kettle behind them whistled to a halt as the water frothed inside its metal cage. Turning round Stiles poured out his and JJ's coffees, adding the sugar to JJ's. Walking back to his desk he handed JJ her coffee and plonked himself down in his chair and leaned back. His computer screen glowed back at him but his mind was elsewhere. Glancing around he subtly used his toe to open the bottom drawer to reveal a large brown leather bound book. The Bestiary had been wrapped in clothes to protect it from any nicks and bumps on his journey to Virginia but it was already showing signs of use, the edge were growing soft when Stiles had flicked through it innumerable times. He never left it anywhere unsafe. 

Just as he debated pulling it out and reading it his phone buzzed. Reaching into his pocket he saw his dad was calling him. Standing up he clicked the answer button and walked outside to the hallway. His stomach clenched slightly with an old home sickness, he hadn't spoken to his father since he had left for the Academy,

"Hey dad"

"Hi son" 

An awkward pause followed, neither quite sure what to say. Stiles fiddled with his jacket lining to distract himself.

"Are you ok?" He broke the silence

"I'm fine, I was just calling to see how your first day is going" Stiles could practically hear his dad's proud smile. 

"It's fine, nothing amazing. It seems all the serial killers have taken the day off." Stiles smiled

Noah chuckled down the phone, "I'm glad you're happy"

~~~~~~~

JJ looked up from her computer as Stiles walked away, phone to his ear. He had only been in the office for a matter of hours but he fitted so comfortably with the others that he seemed to have been with them for years. She lowered her eyes as her thoughts drifted once more to Emily. She missed her friend so much, after everything they had been through. She felt awful, she knew how hollow the others felt because she comforted Reid for weeks after it happened. She still caught him looking at her (previously) empty desk, eyes distant and sad. 

Hotch had been right not to tell anyone about Stiles. It should do them good to have a new member, they could fix themselves. Slowly, but eventually they would heal. Glancing up again to the glass doors she saw Stiles standing, hand in pocket in the hall talking to someone on the phone. He had a gentle smile on his face. After another minute he ended the call but didn't come back into the bull pen. He leant against the wall by the doors and stared at the ground. 

JJ got up and walked over to the doors.

"Hey, you ok?" Stiles looked up at the sound of her voice

"Yeah, yeah" he sighed, "my dad just called to check up on my first day. Feels like the first day of high school again" a soft smile ghosted his lips, "he worries about me, but really I need to worry about him." 

JJ blinked slowly and really looked at Stiles. He was the new child of the team: least experience, probably never has seen a dead body up close. While his face may be youthful and happy, his eyes seemed deeper and more mature than his age. She had seen it before in Reid after Hankel. He had seen something that had changed his view on things. Stiles was more complex than anyone had seen yet. He was all smiles and sarcasm on the exterior but inside he was a full of ghosts. 

"Why do you need to take care of him?" 

Stiles flapped his arm, "it doesn't matter, he stopped a long time ago." He didn't meet her eye and she knew not to press him. She opened her mouth to speak again when the clack of heels announced Garcia's presence,

"Hey! Just the person I was looking for." She came up to Stiles, "you my dark haired youthful friend need to come and sort out a few bits with me." 

The moment Garcia had started speaking, Stiles had pulled a smile across his face and perfectly hid his troubled expression. JJ didn't say anything but made a note to ask Hotch about it. Garcia glanced at JJ when she remained quiet,

"You ok Jayj?" 

"Yeah I'm fine, just thinking" she nodded and turned back to push through the glass doors. 

Stiles followed Garcia through the corridors to a nondescript door. She unlocked the door and pushed it open. Stiles felt his eyes widen as he saw the multitude of toys, trinkets and fluffy items scattered about the office,

He whistled, "I don't know if you're aware of this...but your office seems to have been invaded by...pink"

Garcia grinned, "it's my little room and I like to express myself"

Stiles smiled as he walked round the room, small fluffy objects peppered the room making it seem cosier and more inviting that Hotch's plain office.

"Right" Garcia went over to her computers and started tapping on the keyboard, "you need to confirm a few bits about yourself."

~~~~~~~

JJ walked back to the bull pen and leaned against her desk.

"Hey, JJ you alright?" Morgan asked 

"Stiles..."

"What about him?" Both he and Reid sat up in their chairs 

"I just talked to him outside and he seemed...older. Like he had a weight on his shoulders" 

"Everyone has their past." Morgan began

"No, its more than that. It was like he had seen things. Things someone his age shouldn't have seen." 

Reid leaned forwards, "I know what you mean." JJ looked up at him, "when we were making you coffee he asked me about the BAU, he seemed quite unsure of himself" Reid paused, he thought about the fact that he used to go to crime scenes, that would not have helped his point at all. Obviously the bodies were no longer there but the atmosphere was still ripe with death. 

"Well lets watch out for him, see if anything happens." Morgan declared

JJ sighed and nodded, "I guess I'm just overreacting."

"Incoming" Morgan said and turned back to his screen

~~~~~~~

Stiles turned the corner and pushed the glass doors open, Garcia had lifted his mood, just her bright character made him smile. He walked back to his desk and flopped down in it. 

"I swear I have signed enough paper sheets to make a forest" he muttered

Reid frowned, "that's impossible. You'd have to use in unfathomable number of sheets of paper, and it is a non-reversible reaction so you can't make a tree again-"

Stiles laughed and Reid stopped talking, "it was just an expression, man" 

"Oh"

~~~~~~~

"You ready to go?"

Stiles looked up from his computer screen to see Morgan sanding with his jacket slung over his shoulder 

"Now?" 

"Yeah we are all getting ready to go to the bar, you're coming right?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I'll be one second" Stiles hurried to stand up, caught his leg on his chairs armrest, tripped pulling the chair down with him, arms windmilling around his head.

Morgan stepped back laughing and watched at Stiles tried to pull himself up by grasping the edge of the desk but there was a sheet of paper just by the corner which slipped off sending him back to the ground.

"Crap" Stiles lay on the floor in a tangle of limbs and chair. He looked over at Morgan who was bent double with mirth, "oh shut up" he grinned. Pushing the chair off him he tried to look nonchalant as he brushed off his trousers.

"What did I miss" Rossi looked down from the balcony 

"You know those old wooden toys where you push a button and all the string tension vanish and they fall over?" Morgan pointed at Stiles who scowled in mock anger. 

"Hey! Two and a half men!" Garcia's voice carried over the gentle hubbub of the bull pen, "lets go" 

Stiles looked over and saw Reid, JJ, Garcia and Hotch all waiting by the elevator. 

Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair he hurried after the retreating backs of Morgan and Rossi.

The elevator dinged and all seven poured in to the compartment. 

The ride to the bar was smooth; Rossi, Hotch and JJ took a car while Garcia, Morgan, Reid and Stiles clamoured into Garcia's small car. 

The bar was relatively full but they still managed to find a table where they all stood around. The music was loud but they could still talk to each other, Stiles listened to the music and realised it was playing some generic pop music. 

"I'm guessing they told you" Hotch said over the music. His face was neutral

"Told me?" Stiles was confused, "told me what?"

"It's tradition" Rossi added, his face equally serious

"By the feeling I'm getting I'm going to have to sacrifice something"

"Just your cash" Rossi replied. At that moment the music in the background changed to 'Bills' by Lunchmoney Lewis

"Whenever we have a new member they buy the first round of drinks" JJ informed him

Stiles raised his eyebrow and glanced round the table. All the facing people were serious, no slight smile or guilty shifting, inwardly he cursed them but instead he resigned and said, "fine. What is it you all want?"

After they had all ordered Stiles began to weave in between tables, dancers and people carrying drinks. In the distance he heard a shout of laughter. Finally he reached the bar and waited for the bar tender to see him. 

"What can I get for you?" The man asked placing some clean glasses away

"Three beers, one Jack, one white wine and one margarita, also could the margarita have an umbrella please?" 

As he waited for the drinks Stiles looked round the bar. The lighting was tinted red and the music cocooned everyone. There was a dance floor in the middle of the room with various tables scattered around it. Right now the dance area was pretty empty, only a few people were gently bopping to the beat. A shape in the distance caught his eye, a juke box was behind the dancers, it was the old fashioned style with neon strips round the edge and glowing lights decorating it. He grinned, he would go choose a few songs in a minute.

The sound of multiple glasses being placed behind him told Stiles his drinks were here. Slowly he retraced his steps back to their table. 

"Drinks are up" he shoved various objects out of the way and paced the drinks laden tray on the table top. The team muttered their thanks, Garcia got quite excited over the extra umbrella, but Stiles saw that their eyes sparkled over the rims of the glasses,

"Oh you bastards" he grinned realising their trick, "you goddam sons of bitches"

Finally Morgan couldn't contain his humour and he began to laugh, soon the whole team joined in. Stiles whacked Reid's arm in mock anger, 

"I hate you all." He declared with a grin

Finally Rossi hiccuped himself back under control and raised his Jack, "to the wonderful thing that it authority" the others all drank to it. Stiles shook his head. 

Suddenly the music changed and Stiles remembered the jukebox, "wait one minute" he hurried off in the direction of the machine and soon pulled up next to it. It was awesome. It had been updated and instead of the buttons it had a screen with a seemingly endless option of songs. Scrolling through them Stiles chose a good dance one. Can't go wrong with Queen's 'Don't Stop Me Now'. He added the song to the list and saw it was only a couple of songs away. 

He saw a current of people were conveniently passing his table and so he stepped into the throng and swept through the crowd. He pushed out when they reached his stop. He nearly caught someone's foot and semi-stumbled but managed to catch himself before he face planted for a second time. 

"What was that about?" Garcia asked sipping her drink

"You'll see" Stiles rolled up his sleeves and took his place in the ring of colleagues. 

"So Stiles." JJ opened the conversation up, "you said earlier you had a girlfriend." Stiles nodded and took a swing of his beer, 

"Yeah I do. She's called Lydia."

"Where did you meet her? There wasn't a Lydia in the Academy" 

"School. Ever since Third grade" JJ and Garcia awwwed. Stiles grinned at their reaction, "it wasn't pretty. She went more for the sports-team-captain-muscles-popping-like-bowling balls guys. I was the weird ADHD kid who fell over by tripping over a molecule of air." He took another sip from his drink, "so... I generated a plan. My five year plan. Within five years Lydia Martin would be mine." He paused, "kind of sounds like I'm trying to kidnap her" the others chuckled as Stiles shook his head

"Did it work?" Hotch asked keeping his eyes locked on Stiles as he drank some of his beer

"Eventually. I mean I had to extend my five years to ten...but in the end all it took was me being take-" he stopped talking realising he was about to mention the ghost riders and all the other shit that's happened to him. He quickly readjusted his mouth and released a belch to pass off his pause, "all it took was me being totally adorable and irresistible" he grinned and took another swig of his beer. The taste seemed bitter this time after having to lie to his new friends. That part of his life would have to stay hidden, he didn't want them to think he was insane and chuck him out. 

"Ten years?" Morgan asked, incredulous, "you stuck with a girl that ignored you for ten years?"

"It was worth it" Stiles stretched his arms above his head as he spoke, "she might have ignored me since third grade and through most of high school, but holy hell it was worth it." 

"Where did she go after high school?" JJ asked raising her wine to her lips

"MIT. To study Math."

"That's not easy" Rossi added

"Nah, she's probably the smartest person I know- cancel that. Second smartest after Big Brain over there" Stiles raised his beer to Reid who grinned, "she managed to get into junior year" everyone's eyebrows shot up 

"That is amazing" Garcia stated, her drink still frozen half way to her mouth, "how did she do that?" 

Stiles tapped the side of his head, "if I knew I'd follow her."

The conversation between them flowed and Stiles rode along with it, but the shortly after it came. 

"Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time..." Stiles bolted up at once and a grin flashed over his face and he started singing the words, he added hand gestures and small dance moves. The team at first were caught off guard by Stiles' sudden burst into dance but then JJ giggled at his anctics.

"Don't stop me nowww, don't stop me cos I'm havin' a good time, havin' a good time" he used his empty beer bottle as a microphone and pointed to his new friends. 

Finally unable to stop himself he broke away and jogged up to the dance floor he started a simple series of moves and moved with the music, it may have looked dreadful but Stiles was so wrapped up in the music he didn't care, "don't stop me nowwww, if you wanna have a good time, just give me a call" now other people were watching him but Stiles didn't notice, he was loving this. He was dancing and throwing himself around the dance floor, people were cheering and clapping along with the music now, "woah woah woah explode I'm burnin' through the sky yeah! two hundred degrees that's why they call me mr Fahrenheit" he threw his arms open and beckoned for his friends to join him, all the others pulled back but Stiles was having none of it. He hurled down and dragged Reid up onto the dance floor. The poor guy looked terrified but Stiles carried on dancing and singing, "Don't stop me don't stop me have a good time have a good time" and then he threw his glass away and dropped to his knees frantically playing the air guitar. His face was scrunched up with effort. Others were being drawn into his frenzied attack on the dance floor and they were sucked in until most of the bars inhabitants were packed onto the sizeable space.

Morgan spied Reid standing in the middle of the crowd but rather than being still he was boogieing and laughing, Stiles next to him still thrashing around in his dance, sweat flicking off his fringe from the heat of the room. Morgan pointed out to the others Reid and everyone was absolutely stunned. Stiles had brought Reid out of his shell like no one else ever had before. The other dancers were getting really into it: the alcohol mixing with the natural ecstasy generated from Stiles creating the best atmosphere the team have ever seen here. 

Stiles belted out, "if you wanna have a good time JUST GIVE ME A CALL"

and the audience responded with, "don't stop me now" 

"cos I'm havin' a good time"

"don't stop me now"

"Yes I'm havin' a good time I don't wanna stop at aaaaaaalllllll"

As the music began to fade and slow the crowd swayed with Stiles at their epicentre, and when it ended everyone cheered, Stiles took a small bow and made to leave the dance floor but everyone clamoured for another dance. 

After looking like he was about to refuse he grinned and went over to the juke box selecting a new song. 

"OW" Micheal Jackson shouted from the speakers and Stiles at once changed into a perfect imitation of MJ, walking like just in the smooth criminal video. People moved away but all eyes were fixed on him. He sang the lyrics but he became Micheal so much you forgot he was playing him.

"Annie are you ok, are you ok Annie?!" and Stiles was dancing in true Micheal Jackson style, legs flicking out, arms smoothly moving and flowing. Other people started to try and copy his routine. One man must've known the whole dance since he began to do the actual routine form the video. Stiles watched him and grinned, nodding he began to copy him. The two of them replicating the famous dance. The onlookers were screaming and cheering in delight 

"You've been hit by" he spun to face his friends, "you've been hit by" and pointed at them, "a smooth criminal" and turned away. In the following instrumental part Stiles dragged up all the team so they joined Reid who was grinning so much that they thought his face might rip. 

Then after an, "ow" there was quiet, an eerie whistle came from Stiles, finger clicking followed. Stiles began to hum, silencing others. The clicking continued. An odd atmosphere arose, people twirling ghostlike in the darkness. Whoops and cheers arising from nowhere. The refrain , "Annie are you ok" rising from the silence until Stiles shouted, "ANNIE ARE YOU OK?!"

Then the music returned and everyone cheered and began dancing on the floor with Stiles as their figure head doing the moonwalk and just generally having a great time. 

The music reached a crescendo and Everyone was dancing, some more intesly than others but Stiles had turned a relatively quiet bar into a room full of people having a great time. Finally Smooth Criminal reached the end and once more the roof was raised by the shouts from the dancers. Stiles was laughing with the other people surrounding him, sweat dripping from his shirt and hair but he had not felt this exhilarated in a long time. Pulling himself away from the throng he managed to get back to his table. All the others were there, Hotch still looked presentable as did Rossi but both their ties were off, all the others had wild eyes and hair. However, all of them were smiling. 

"Where did that come from?" Garcia asked, her hair was coming out of its styled precision with pieces tumbling down her face, "cos it was awesome"

"I second that" Morgan added, "I've never seen Reid dance before, especially in a crowd of strangers" everyone looked at Reid who was already flushed from the dance and he grinned sheepishly

"All I know is that I'm exhausted now." Stiles opened and closed his mouth like a fish, "and thirsty. My throat also hurts" 

"That'll probably be from all that singing, if you can call it that" Morgan baited grinning wickedly

"Oh that's how it's gonnna be then?!" Stiles turned on him smiling savagely, "well how about a contest. Karaoke. Me and you." 

If Morgan tried to backpedal any faster he'd be reversing, "um well...I never said..."

Stiles howled with laughter, "don't start something you can't finish, dude"


	5. The Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the next chapter, it's more of a filler or the next one which will be longer.
> 
> Thank yout once again for the kudos and comments! They're incredible
> 
> Enjoy!

The evening passed quickly after that, they had a few more drinks, Stiles was drawn back to the dance floor a few more times but it was not as frantic as the first time. 

"I'm going to head back" Hotch stood up and brushed down his suit, he picked up his tie and looped it over his arm

"Me too" JJ rose from her seat, "Garcia you coming?" 

"Yeah..." she took a little longer than the other two to rise, "why do I always have wine, I know I don't do well with it but I always end up having it..." she grimaced and picked up her bag

"I should get back too" Stiles declared from his lounged position in the chair he was occupying. His left leg was slung over the arms rest and the same arm was flopped over his face as his head tilted back over the backrest. Sighing he brought his head up lethargically and stood up. 

"I'll go with you" Reid offered

"Sure man" Stiles blinked, "lets go" he turned to the others before he left and raised a hand, "thanks for this. Great welcome. Also, you're all awesome. I mean that. Rarely do I bestow that honour upon mine friends." He grinned and rolled into a theatrical bow, "and so good knights...adieu!" Spinning round he and Reid left the bar.

"How much did you drink tonight?" Reid asked

"Not much." Stiles looked up from his feet as he scuffed the sidewalk weeds, "I'm not drunk, just tipsy. Ever so slightly inebriated" he giggled 

Reid nodded.

They walked in silence for a bit, there was little traffic on the roads. 

"Have you seen Star Trek?" Stiles abruptly asked, "not the new ones, the old ones"

Reid looked up surprised, "of course" he almost looked offended, "have you"

"Same answer" Stiles thought for a wile before asking, "who was the first person Spock gave the nerve pinch?"

"Easy, Kirk. Spock was supposed to knock him out but instead just gave him the pinch"

Stiles grinned, "you are the only person who has been able to answer me that question. Level up for you" he held up his fist and Reid bumped it with his own, "ok, your turn" 

~~~~~~~

"This is my stop" Stiles said as they reached a crossroads, "see you tomorrow" 

Reid waved his hand as he walked his own way home. Stiles watched him leave as he disappeared from view between the street lamps and then popping back into view as he stepped into the next pool of yellow light. Sighing and smiling Stiles turned around and walked up to his building. 

He fished for his keys in his pocket as he walked up the stairs to his apartment. Drawing them out he fiddled with the small key ring that hung to the key, it was a tiny photo of the Pack. All of them smiled out of the paper. He stopped outside his door and just looked at the image: a warm rush of nostalgic happiness filled him up. He twisted the key in the lock and opened the door into his new house. 

It was a small sized apartment, boxes still towered in most rooms. Having moved in only a few days ago he had yet to fully unpack. He put his keys in the little table by the door and walked into the kitchen. He put a slice of bread in the toaster and waited for it to be ready. As he waited he took out his phone and scrolled through the contacts until he landed on Lydia's name. 

The dial tone buzzed into his ear as he waited for he to pick up, the toaster ticked as it heated up slowly. 

"Hey" Lydia's voice came from the speaker. At once Stiles smiled, hearing her voice never filed to raise his spirits

"Hey, how are you?" 

"I'm good thanks, where have you been? It's later than when you normally ring" 

"I've been out with the team" he smiled

"Oh nice, what were you doing?" 

He grinned, "I'm sorry miss, but that's classified information"

If Lydia had been with him she's had playfully hit him, "oh shut up" she giggled

He too chuckled, "nothing special, we just went out for drinks. It was a nice place actually, it had a juke box! How cool is that!? Anyways I totally rocked the dance floor-"

"You danced?" She sounded sceptical, "did you hit anyone?"

"Hey! I actually was the best dancer there. I have been practicing since Danny's UV party."

"I'm glad, it looked like you were having some sort of fit with your limbs"

"You savage beast, you tear at my heart" he mockingly laid a hand over his heart

Lydia's laugh rang down the line and he felt his heart race. The toaster pinged behind him and he jammed his phone between his ear and shoulder as he began to butter his toast, "on the subject of Danny do you have his number? I have an old one"

"I think so why?" 

"I am in need of his expertise." When Danny had left Beacon Hills he kept in contact with some people and rumour has it he went to an IT college and now his hacking skills have had an upgrade. 

"What are you doing now?" Lydia sounded cautiously resigned, "don't get yourself into trouble on your first day"

"I'll be fine." He paused as he took a bite from his toast and Lydia gave him Danny's number, "have you head from Scott recently?" Since arriving in Virginia it had been hectic leaving no time to contact Scott or any of the other Pack members. 

"I heard from him yesterday"

"Oh yeah? What is you talk about?"

"Well after U C Davis he decided to stay in California and since he specialised in veterinary studies he went to join a veterinary clinic, he told me yesterday he'd got a promotion recently. It seems his time with Deaton has paid off." 

"That's awesome, I'm glad he's got it." Another bite of toast, "did he say anything else?"

"It's all been quiet his end, nothing supernatural there. He thought he had a shapeshifter but turns out it was a cosplayer who could change exceptionally fast."

Stiles laughed, "I bet the poor guy had a heart attack when Scott ran at him"

"Yeah, he said he had to think fast about his claws and fangs. He said they too were cosplay things. He laid low after that"

"No kidding. How about you? Anyang weird?"

"Thankfully it has all been clear. After Beacon Hills it's so nice not to worry if the postman is a were-something-or-other"

Stiles huffed a laugh, "yeah. Same here." He sighed and was silent, just listening to Lydia breathe. It was strange to think he was so far away from her but right now they felt like they were standing next to each other, "Well I should probably go now, I have a lot of things to do tomorrow"

"Ok, talk tomorrow? Same time?"

"Yeah"

"Ok, love you"

"Love you too" 

The line clicked off and Stiles sucked in a deep breath. He looked down at Danny's scribbled number and decided to ring him now, who knows where he is. Once more the tone rang.

"Hello?" Danny's voice answered

"Danny, its Stiles" 

"Stiles? Hi man, haven't heard from you in ages" 

"Yeah I only just got your new number"

"Ah sorry about that, I had to change my phone recently."

"What did you do this time?" Stiles leaned back in the table top 

A pause, "What do you want me to do?" He changed to topic

"I need you to hack into the FBI system."

Danny audibly was stunned, "you want me to do what?!" He spluttered

"I just want to do some background reading on my team" 

"Wait, you're in the FBI?" When Stiles confirmed this he said, "that's awesome dude! Sure I can get you in."

Stiles was surprised, "that much surety?" 

Danny paused, "yeah..."

"Ok that's great" not wanting to press, "what do I do?"

I'll send you a link, it'll have all the programming on it and will be nearly undetectable."

"Nearly is good enough for me" Stiles pushed himself off the side board and walked over to his room where his laptop laid on his bed. Picking it up he carried it back to his kitchen, "I'll wait for it"

"Just sent it"

"Thanks man. Hey we should meet up some time. Reminisce and all"

"I would say yes but I'm in Hawaii"

"Hawaii?! I'm so jealous" 

"I would be too if I was in your shoes" Stiles could practically hear Danny grinning, "you're missing out, there's so many-"

"La la la la la la not listening you douche bag!" Stiles raised his voice, "I'm gonna go now so you don't make me unbearably envious of you. Bye bye now" Stiles heard Danny's little voice reply hen he ended the call, "Hawaii...bastard. I've always wanted to go" Stiles smiled to himself and shook his head. 

Stiles then opened up the link Danny sent him and waited while it broke down the citadel of FBI programming. His skill was phenomenal, it took five minutes to get through and have access to the agents. He made a mental note to never get on the wrong side of him. Who knows what he could reveal about Stiles.

Scrolling through the seemingly endless list Stiles managed to find folders. The BAU was there too. He opened it and began to read up them. While Stiles trusted them, he preferred to have a little background on them. Stiles found his team had been through a lot. Hotch had lost his wife to a psychopath and had heard the shot himself, Rossi had lost and found his family over the years, Garcia had been shot by a man with a hero complex, JJ could have left kid motherless countless times due to monstrous people, Morgan was molested as a child but still he faced his demon and beat him, Reid was kidnapped, drugged and tortured when he was the same age as Stiles. All these happenings before him made his insides clench; threats to his life had always been present but seeing that it happened to other people made it seem more real. Monsters were vicious, incapable of mercy, but people, people are so much worse. They find your pressure points and mercilessly push on them until you break. 

He researched the team for a while longer then closed the laptop. His eye were sore and dry from staring and reading. Pushing the chair back he stood up, stretched, and yawned. He did everything out of routine; cleaned his teeth, changed into his pyjamas, turned off the slights, and clambered into bed. 

Lying in bed Stiles started up at the ceiling. His clock ticked softly by his side. His breathing was the only other sound in the room apart from the clock. He mused over the day. This morning he was a bundle of nerves, worried he wouldn't be accepted into the group, that's they'd shun him. How wrong had he been. They had brought him into the team and made him feel relaxed around them. At the Academy he had had friends but only superficial ones. There was no deep bond nor meaning to their friendship. They were friends because they were lumped together. At the BAU they were a family. He was still the newest member and had yet to get the same connection as they had but he was getting there. He was getting there. 

Stiles smiled as he shuffled over to his left side and the smile was still on his face as he'd drifted off to sleep.


	6. First Case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The case begins
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments, they still are incredible!! 
> 
> The supernatural element will be arriving next chapter too!
> 
> Enjoy!!

He woke with a slight jolt as the alarm beeped. Rolling over he turned it off and thought for a second about getting up...but then again his bed was so comfy and warm. 

Stiles pulled the covers right up to his chin and wriggled into a comfy position. He lay there listening to the occasional car passing or the chatter of little birds near by. Some childish part of him still expected his dad to pop his head round the door frame saying, "hey kiddo, gotta get up and dressed for school."

Stiles' eyes were focused on the door, almost trying to summon his father. To no avail. Sighing and groaning Stiles kicked the covers back, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. 

"C'mon Stiles. You can do it" he muttered and pushed himself up off the mattress. The alcohol from yesterday made itself known in the form of a headache. He rubbed his head with the heel of his hand and grimaced. He shuffled to the kitchen and began making breakfast: toast in toaster, boil water, fetch tea bags. To push the boat out Stiles opened the fridge and pulled out some bacon. Soon the smell of it permeated the apartment making his mouth water. While it took longer to make it was so worth it. With his food Stiles took an Advil to soothe his slightly pounding head. 

After he washed up the dishes Stiles showered. He stood under the hot needles of water, the stream waking him up much more. After turning off the water he grabbed his towel and hurriedly wrapped it round his waist so the cold draft of air didn't make him freeze. He stepped out onto the side of his shower and rubbed his wet hair with a towel until it was moderately dry. He wiped the steamed up mirror and looked into it. His hair was the ultimate birds nest. A pair of starlings could be nestled and he'd have no idea they were there. Ends stuck out at wild points and clumps of wet hair made him look like he'd just been electrocuted like in the old cartoons. As he leaned in his eye was drawn to his left shoulder. The faded white lines of his Lichtenberg figures from all those years ago stood out slightly against his more tanned skin, he remained motionless as he traced them with his eyes, turning round they tumbled down his shoulder blade fading into nothing. Stiles watched a little while longer before reaching out to get his toothbrush. Automatically he multitasked as he brushed them and began to try to tame his hair into a reasonable style. 

Fifteen minutes later Stiles locked his door and descended down the stairs to the front entrance. Today he'd forgone the tie, instead he was wearing a more casual pale blue shirt with smart trousers. Despite what Morgan said Stiles still wanted to look half decent. Stiles checked his watch and swore, he was going to be late. He glanced round and thankfully a cab was cruising his way. He stuck out his arm and waited as the cab pulled up next to him.

~~~~~~~

Garcia bustled into the bull pen and glanced at Stiles' desk, "where is our new comrade?" 

Reid looked up as he said, "he texted me that he was running late and should be here within five minutes. That was three minutes and forty seven seconds ago. So he should be here within one minute and thirteen seco-"

Morgan, JJ, Reid and Garcia turned to look at the glass doors as a crash resounded from them in time to see Stiles' head snap back as he collided with them, his arms flung out to his sides and jacket falling from his grasp. 

"It's a double way opening door and I still managed to walk into it..." Stiles rubbed his nose as he picked up his jacket from the floor, "unbelievable"

"Morning" Morgan chuckled, "you should watch out for those doors. They're notoriously dangerous" 

"Oh shut up" Stiles grinned. He'd only just hung his jacket over the back of his chair when Hotch walked out of his office

"We have a case"

Garcia checked her phone and her smile fell into a distressed expression, "that is so mon amis... I'll get everything up in the meeting room" she hurried off up the stairs.

The others followed, "how you feeling today?" Rossi asked as he fell into step next to Stiles

"Not too bad. I had a small headache but one must pay the price for fun"

Rossi chuckled, "indeed"

The seven members filed into the room, Stiles waited until everyone had sat down knowing they probably all had their place and he didn't want to upset that rhythm. The only seat left was one between Reid and JJ, most likely Prentiss' previous seat. He felt awkward sitting in it, like he was befouling her shrine or something. 

Garcia handed out relatively thick folders enclosing the case, Stiles opened the file and saw a cluster of photographs inside. Emaciated limbs swollen from exposure to water. 

"In Jefferson, Texas six bodies in total have been found in a river called Big Cypress Bayou. The bodies were washed up on the shore and they looked like they'd been in the water for multiple days." Garcia clicked the remote and a blonde cheery girl popped up on the screen, "this is Alice Day, a nineteen year old who was on holiday with her family." Another click and a boy came up, "Daniel Morrison. Twenty one. This is John Threpe" an older man showed next, his hair starting to be flicked with grey, "fifty, he was a local." Next another woman showed, "this is Amy Patel" she had beautiful rich skin, and her smile glowed front the screen, another click, "Murphy Lopez" a middle aged man's face flicked up and finally the youngest image showed: "fifteen year old Nancy Yewman, she was the latest victim" beside all the profile pictures were images of the persons' corpse. A hand, an arm, hips. Even though he had seen dead bodies they had mostly been fresh and claw marks were the cause of death. Here the bodies were days old and beginning to decay. The skin was blackening and decomposing, the exposure to water speeding up the process. 

"The first body has been dead a long time" Stiles offered, "they're way past pallor, Algor rigor, and Livor mortis. Those bodies are way into Putrefaction." Stiles indicated the green tinge to the skin and the swell of most of the bodies' stomachs where gasses were being released in the decomposition of proteins for the first few victims, "the first body looks like they're nearly 10-20 days old with that colour of skin, while the latest - Nancy Yewman - looks only 2-3 days as her ski has only just started to discolour and organs decompose."

"10-20 days, let's say 15, and the most recent is only two days old, that's thirteen days to murder six people." Morgan deduced, "that's incredibly fast-"

"And risky too. He stands a much greater chance of being caught, but the Texarkana Moonlight Murderer was never caught, he is believed to have killed ten people. That was over the span of 9 days. This unsub could possibly be following a similar pattern." Reid offered 

JJ flicked through her file, "it says here that despite the bloating effect of the water the victims seemed to have been starved?" 

Garcia leapt in, "yes, all of them appeared to have been starved for a number of days beforehand."

"Maybe that's part of his ritual. Keep them, starve them and them drown them." Rossi suggested, "drowning is how they died isn't it"

"Yes, but there also seems to be signs of bruising pre-mortem."

"Restrains?" Morgan rifled through the photographs trying to find ligature marks on their wrists or ankles

Stiles too looked at them and saw a yellow-green discolouration on the latest victim's right shoulder, "hey Garcia, could you zoom in on that photo?" Stiles pointed at the same one on the screen, "is it me or does that look like a bruise from impact?" 

Everyone scrutinised it, "what are you thinking?"

"I don't know, maybe he also beat her?" 

"Ok, everyone get your go bags. Wheels up in twenty" Hotch announced and hurried out of the room. 

~~~~~~~

Stiles jogged up the stairs, he was the last one to board the plane.

When he turned the corner and saw the interior of the plane he whistled, lush cream leather padded the seats, a small hid behind a wooden partition at the back of the cabin, "this definitely beats coach" the others laughed at his reaction, "is this how we fly wall the time?" 

"It's our plane"

"Awesome" he grinned

The take off was smooth, but for all Stiles cared the pilot could've bounced the plane on its nose and he wouldn't have noticed, "this seat is the comfiest seat ever" he declared 

A small 'bwop' from the laptop announced Garcia's presence on the screen, "good morning my brave explorers, how may I assist you with your quest?" Her cheery voice came from the speakers. 

"Garcia is there any news from the Jefferson PD?" Hotch asked

"Yes, it seems that we have another Einstein in training because the coroner told us that each of the victims had similar large pre-mortem bruises over various parts of their bodies. The coroner suggested a big impact caused them."

"Another layer to this sadistic unsub's story." Stiles muttered. 

"Indeed, I shall dig up these artefacts and report as soon as I can" she clicked off

"Ok when we land, Reid and Stiles you go to the crime scene, Rossi and I will go the station, JJ and Morgan you two go to the morgue. We need to stop this unsub before word starts to spread and we lose him."


	7. Down by the River

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for the kudos and comments! 
> 
> Things begin to heat up now, the case has begun

Stiles switched off the ignition and steeped out of the car into blistering heat. Even behind his sunglasses he squinted. Reid paused and took off his light cardigan, event what was too much. Together they strolled down to the river side. Yellow markers were scattered on the ground indicating the various bits of evidence. The river was murky with silt obscuring the river bed. It's edge had tiny walls of mud pushed there by the water. In the mud there were gouges where people had walked and dips where the victims had washed up. Stiles glanced around and saw there were no buildings or places to hide people.

Stiles voiced his thoughts and Reid nodded, "maybe they drifted downstream. There could be some buildings further up-"

"Morning Agents" a voice cut him off, "looks like a bad one." Both Stiles and Reid turned round to see a heavily moustached man pacing towards them, his stomach was like a balloon and it pushed his shirt taught around it. He wasn't tall adding to the general ball-on-legs idea. His sheriff badge glinted in the sun reminding Stiles vividly of his father. 

He swallowed and smiled, "yeah it does. What have you got? Sheriff...?"

"Mollis. Sheriff Mollis. Well not much expect what you see here. The evidence has been moved over to the station." Sheriff Mollis retreated back to the hollow cones and began pointing them out, "this was vic number six. She was just sitting in the water. Couple of dog walkers found her, thought she was a drunk at first. Found four next, five took a while to find, he was slightly down stream. I got a couple guys down there. The rest were all around here."

"Thanks" Reid said, "were there any clothes on the bodies?" 

Mollis nodded, "yeah, they all had clothes, they looked dirty and worn but not really old."

"So they were contemp-"

A shrill scream shattered the gentle chatter around the crime scene. Everyone turned to see a young woman, hands to her mouth and still screaming. Tears were falling down her cheeks making her eyes shine. Stiles gasped. Her eyes. They were completely grey. Solid grey. It was only a flash but Stiles knew what had happened. 

"I'll take care of this" he tapped Reid's shoulder and ran towards her. 

She was sobbing hysterically now, eyes locked on the river. As Stiles ran she fell to her knees. Her long black hair fell down around her shoulders and curtained her pale face. Stiles slowed down as he neared her and waited for her to see him. 

"Hey" he gently said, "can I come nearer?"

Her eyes flitted to him and she seemed to see him for the first time, he was semi-crouched so as to seem less threatening. Tears wound themselves down her pixie face coating her cheeks. Finally she nodded and hiccuped herself into a quieter state. 

Stiles came and sat down next to her on the grass, his legs crossed and hands in his lap. Despite him being nervous he had to give the impression of calmness. There was a reason Stiles had had to be the one to talk to her. The young woman next to him who was torn apart because a bunch of men were invading and polluting her river. This is relevant because she was a nymph. A river nymph. This was her home.

"I'm sorry this has happened" Stiles glanced up at her not wanting to intimidate her. Even thought he had read about nymphs in his Bestiary it was something else talking to one. 

She couldn't take her eyes off the river, "it is my home..." she whispered. She had an accent, Stiles couldn't place it. It didn't sound like any country in this world, a lilting mix of Greek and some strange Italian, "they come and stomp in mud ruining it..." her eyes filled with tears again. 

"What is your name?" He gently asked, "are you a naiad?"

The girl looked up surprise shone in her eyes, "I am Theilia. I am Potamide" 

Stiles nodded, "is there anything I can do?"

"Make them go away." She replied softly 

"I'm sorry but I can't right now... we need to find someone who did all this"

"The dead people?" Her eyes lit up

"Theilia do you know anything about this?" Stiles' heart rate began to pick up

"I bathe in river and then water tell me something... I swim to and see a person. They still, dead" as she retold the story she gestured with her arms emphasising her swimming and when she saw the victims.

"What did the water say?"

"There are sleeping people. Somnus and his brother Leti took them to Hades"

Thankfully Stiles knew his mythology, "they were dead before?" 

She nodded enthusiastically, "yes yes" 

Stiles thought, if they were fully dead by the time they arrived here they must be a decent distance away from here. They were dead, not unconscious. He turned back to Theilia who was looking again at her home. A few of the policemen snuck curious glances at the mystery girl, "Theilia" she flicked her eyes onto his, "would you mind coming down to the police station with me? We could use your help. Then we can get these nasty men away from your home. How's that?" He smiled trying to get her to agree

She looked seriously at him, "will you come?" Stiles nodded earnestly, "and they will go?" Again Stiles confirmed this, "then yes. I go with you. We get nasty men away." She sudden smiled, a dazzling smile. It was a young child's smile, innocent and genuine, "we go?"

"Lets go" he stood up and offered her his hand. However she had jumped up gracefully as a leaf. He walked side by side back to Reid. As they approached the riverbank Theilia visibly tensed and she muttered something Stiles couldn't understand, "Theilia, this is my friend Spencer Reid. He is here to help you too" 

Reid raised his hand and waved, "hi"

"Hello Spencer Reid." Theilia copied his little wave and smiled softly at him. She then turned her attention to Stiles and with earnest eyes asked, "we go?"

Stiles nodded, then leant closer to Reid and muttered, "she's a witness. She didn't see the murderer but she was the first to see the bodies. I thought if we do a cognitive then she could remember since she seemed like she knew something but couldn't remember it. Probably shock" he made most of it up but he did hope she had seen something happen. Since this was her river she should know a lot of it, surrounding buildings and the layout. 

Reid nodded, "if we get back now we should meet up with the rest of the team. I'll call them when we're in the car."

Theilia waited patiently while they talked but Stiles watched as her eyes began to drift towards the river and sadness welled up in them. He hurriedly finished what he was saying and the three of them walked towards their car. 

~~~~~~~

Morgan and JJ walked out of the morgue just as Morgan's phone rang, he answered it and clicked speaker:

"Morgan" Reid's voice came through the speakers, "meet us back at the station. We got a witness."

"A witness? Where did you find them?" 

"Stiles did. She was at the crime scene-"

"How did she get there?" Morgan interrupted suddenly suspicious, "are you sure she's nothing to do with the murders"

Stiles's voice cut in through the speakers, "she's not. Believe me. You'll see when you're back at the station."

A small voice followed him, "I do not kill people." She sounded defiant but also disgruntled as though she were offended that they'd even thought that she had killed them

JJ looked at Morgan with a small sly grin. Morgan rolled his eyes

"Did you guys find anything at the morgue?" Reid asked

"Well they all drowned. That's clear. They all also had two small burns on their necks."

"Any idea what that's from?" Stiles asked

"No not yet. But it looked like what ever it was they got it repeatedly. Another thing was all of the victims seemed to have suffered from extreme sleep deprivation."

"So that would mean that the unsub had them for a while before they died then..." Reid offered

"That was our guess. Ok well we are on our way back to the station. See you there."

He clicked off the call and he and a JJ walked towards the car. 

~~~~~~~

Hotch turned round to see Reid and Stiles leading a young woman through the sheriffs station. She was short and she had long shiny black hair that swung by her hips. Her skin was gently tanned and her eyes were a silvery grey colour. Reid peeled off towards Hotch as Stiles took her to an interview room. 

"Where did you find her?"

"Honestly" Reid looked over his shoulder to look at her, "she found us. At the crime scene. She was distraught when she saw all the men."

"Maybe she's with a Green Peace company?" Rossi offered as he come up behind Hotch

"But we weren't touching trees or any wildlife..." Reid answered

"I'll go watch Stiles' interview with her" Hotch said. He walked away following in Stiles' footsteps to the small room.

Reid stepped closer towards the evidence board. He saw a photograph of the two burns. They were miniature circles close together on their necks. Reid recognised it but couldn't just place it; taking a photo on his phone he sent it to Garcia and promptly rang her. 

"Is that my favourite genius calling me?"

Reid smiled, "hey Garcia could you look up something for me?"

"I am here to aid you in your epic missions of righteousness. What do you need" 

"Did you get the photo I sent you?" As Reid spoke he looked around the rest of the board trying to gauge any more about the unsub that he could. 

"Yes I did...ouch that look nasty. Did all the victims have this?" 

Reid confirmed this as he raked his eyes over the victims photographs. Race, Religion nor gender seemed to have any effect in the unsub's choice of victim, "could you find out what it is?"

"Of course ill call you back as soon as I have something" she promptly hung up and Reid placed his phone back into his pocket eye still searching for anything that will help. 

"Hey kid, anything yet?" Morgans voice popped up from behind him

"Not yet. Stiles is interviewing the witness now" Reid turned round to face him, "I'm just waiting on Garcia for an answer for something." Turning to the files he began rifling through them.

"So we have six drowned and sleep deprived victims, one witness who seems sketchy and two little burns to go on." Morgan recited

"We've had worse" JJ responded sitting down next to Spence and she too started to look through the file pile. 

~~~~~~~

"Why am I in here?" Theilia asked. She was sitting behind the table. A glass of water touched her arm but she did not drink it. Stiles had read that it was polite to offer a nymph a portion of their element, since she was a naiad water was her element. Stiles was just glad she wasn't a tree nymph, he didn't know how he would explain to Hotch if he promptly planted some tree bark or soil onto the desk in front of her.

"I need to ask you some questions, Theilia. Is that ok?"

"Yes to get nasty men away." Her pixie face held a child's seriousness. Then her expression changed to slight suspicion, she leaned in and whispered, "there is man watching." A slight fear was etched into her youthful features

Stiles nodded, "that is my friend"

"Spencer Reid?"

"No, Aaron Hotchner. He is my boss."

This answer seemed to satisfy her but she continued to flick her eyes to the two way glass

"Where were you when you found the victims?" Stiles had his hands on the desk in front of him, he leaned slightly forwards - not to seem intrusive and aggressive but enough to seem interested and attentive. 

"I told you, I was bathing in river" she thrust her hands towards Stiles, frustrated. The water glass next to her jumped forwards as the water angrily sloshed around. 

He shot her a look, leaned in and muttered under his breath, "keep yourself under control. Only I know who you are. If you start pelting me with water who knows what will happen." He held strong eye contact with her until she broke it. He nodded and smiled, "Theilia I am going to try something called a cognitive interview. If you have any memories locked inside your head this will release them."

"My thoughts are prisoner?" Anxiety crept into her voice and her hand touched her temple 

"No no, it was just an expression. Your subconscious mind is hiding them from you." When she nodded he spoke gently, "now close your eyes"

She did so. Her body wasn't relaxed and when Stiles saw this he reached out and softly touched her wrist. She was very cold. Her pale skin looked almost grey, "I'm going to do this quickly so we can try and get you home sooner. Ok?" Stiles knew nymphs needed to be near their source or their power wilts and their source dies too. However at his touch she had relaxed slightly, the tension in her shoulders vanished. 

"Ok, now you were bathing in the river when you first saw the body."

"Yes, the river told me." Her eyes snapped open, "I tell you this at the river. Why again?"

"Trust me, Theilia. Please be patient." 

Again she nodded and closed her eyes after scrutinising Stiles' sincere expression. 

"You were bathing and the river told you" 

"It tell me that people were sleeping in it. Big sleep."

"They were dead?" He prompted

"Yes, she had long hair. Pretty but her face was blue. Her eyes were open. I touch her." Theilia reached out a hand as though her imagination was tangible, "she is very cold. I pull her to shores and I see another! Then three, four, five! Too many body in my river!" Her hands clasped her head and the water in the glass began to swirl, Stiles took hold of her hand again to calm her, "One man had things around him."

"Things?" 

"I know not all of them. A little soft brown leather square. Near his head two glass bits with metal. He had keys near his pockets. One shoe was missing. His foot was blue." 

"Ok, thank you Theilia. That was perfect." 

She scrunched up her face like a child, "I can open eyes now?" 

"Yes" she squinted in the light of the interview room, "what did you do after you found the bodies?"

Her pleased grin vanished in a flash. The glitter in her eyes was snuffed out, "I run. I run away, like coward. Hercules never run. Artemis never run away." As she spoke her soft steel irises expanded until they encompassed her whole eye. Stiles squeezed her wrist to remind her and she blinked. It wasn't long but knowing Hotch he would have seen it. 

"You did the right thing" Stiles gently told her, "you could have been in danger. The killer could have seen you and killed you" 

"I would fight them." She was defiant and proud. Too proud.

"No. You run. With this person you run. Understand?" When she didn't respond he he shook her arms, "understand?" Desperation leaked into his voice. 

She hurriedly nodded, confused panic shone in her eyes, "yes yes I run." 

"Thank you" Stiles felt deflated and dropped his arms to the table. 

Hotch watched from the other side of the glass. Stiles handled this witness very well, she was difficult and her accented English was adding to the complexity but he seemed to have a good grasp of the situation. When Theilia said about the objects scattered around one of the victims he pricked up his ears. Glasses, keys and a small leather square...a wallet possibly? Turning around Hotch left the interview and hurried back to Rossi just as Theilia's eyes changed. 

The secret was safe for now. 

~~~~~~~

Stiles led Theilia to the exit, she held his hand as she let him guide her.

"Stiles" she said thoughtfully, "it is good name. Strong name. But not real name?"

Stiles shook his head, "no it isn't. But it is better than my real name." He continued to weave his way around desks

"What is your real name?"

"Mieczyslaw"

"Mieczyslaw." Her lips moved smoothly around the unusual name like she was tasting it, "That is new name. I don't hear often new name. It is nice new name."

"Thank you Theilia. Your name is very pretty too"

"I know." She held up her chin proudly and her raven hair flowed down her back touching her hips. Stiles chuckled to himself. 

The reached the door and Theilia withdrew her hand from Stiles' and turned to face him, "thank you Mieczyslaw. I can go home now? Nasty men will go?" 

He nodded, "they have probably packed up all their things now and have gone"

She nodded vigorously her hair puffing up around her face, "good."

"Goodbye Theilia and thank you for your help you could have just saved someone's life." Stiles told her sincerely 

"Good. My father will be happy." With that she briskly turned in her heel and began walking away. Stiles brought a hand up to shade his eyes as he watched her go. One hand of his fiddled with his keys in his pocket. He too made to go back to the police station but he collided with another body and his keys flew from his fingers. 

"Oh jeez- I'm sorry" he hurriedly apologised, "wasn't looking where I was going" 

The man who he had bumped into has a stocky ginger haired man with a face similar to a Persian cat - a bit like he had walked into a wall, "no worries." He bent down and brought up Stiles' keys, "these yours?" 

"Yeah thanks" as the man reached out to give them back, Stiles saw his eyes glance at the Pack photo on the metal ring and for a split second an expression flitted s face and his brow darkened,

"Those your friends?" A gruff edge crept into his voice 

"Yeah but they're practically family" Stiles pulled the keys from his grasp a small smile on his face, "thanks and sorry for walking into you" 

The man's face was still distant but in a split second a grin stretched across his face, "no problem" and he carried on his way. 

~~~~~~~  
"Were any of the objects recovered from. The crime scene?" JJ asked as Stiles flopped down into a seat on her left

"Yeah but they're still being examined so we can't see them until tomorrow." Hotch replied. He glanced at the clock on the wall to see it was 10:30. Sucking in a deep breath he turned round, "we aren't going to get anymore done today. Go back to the hotel and we can talk there if we need."

Hotch reached over a chair and grabbed his jacket as Rossi and the others stood up. Morgan stretched, "we need something to break this case. No DNA, no cctv, only six victims. We should talk to the families." 

"Tomorrow. I've contacted them all but none wanted to talk today. But some agreeed to talk with us tomorrow."

"Fingers crossed that works." Morgan muttered.

"Did you know the finger crossed gesture originated from Christianity to represent the cross-" Reid began as he followed Morgan to the exit

"But some kids cross their fingers behind their back when they tell a small lie" Stiles jogged up behind them, "and in Poland, Germany and other East European countries they ball up their hands with with thumbs in their fist to represent luck. The finger cross is only used for oaths."

Morgan sighed, "this is going to be a long drive" but there was an affectionate smile on his face as he watched the two youngest agents animatedly talk.


	8. The Hôtel de Reve

The hotel they were staying at was 'The Hôtel de Reve'. The hotel of dreams. Stiles opened his room door to see a spacious room with a large double bed. Sighing he walked over to and sat down on it and fell backwards arms spread eagled on the covers. He stared up at the ceiling thinking about the case. So far they had a handful of solid facts: there were six victims, all sleep deprived who drowned, and with two small burns on their necks, they were found at the same crime scene. What connected them? Why did the unsub choose them? Where were they kept? And for how long? The list of questions was endless. Groaning he rolled over off the bed and walked past his Go bag grabbing his toothbrush and stepped into the bathroom. 

Stiles suddenly felt exhausted. The whole drama of the day came crashing down on him and he struggled to keep his eyes open. Lethargically he shuffled to the seat his go bag was and pulled out his pyjamas. With great effort he pulled on his sweat pants and his tshirt was half on when he heard a small creak. 

He froze. Slowly he pulled the material down his torso. Years of instinct and training from both the Pack and the Academy told him to be silent. He crouched and crept along the wall to the bathroom where the noise came from. All feelings of sleep had been dispelled. The bathroom was silent once more. The light from street lamps and the moon illuminated the room with the sharp yellow conquering the gentle silver. Stiles still crept forwards, his heart thumped in his chest and his nerves hummed. The door was inches away, he felt tension in his limbs build, his hands were trembling. 

A hand snatched his face and clamped over his mouth. Stiles screamed and fought the person. He screamed through the fingers but no sound was heard. He reached behind him and scratched at the attackers face, feeling his nails dig into the soft flesh of their face. He heard them his in pain and when Stiles drew his fingers over the persons eyes the hand withdrew and Stiles leapt out of the grasp. In a smooth fluid motion he spun round and delivered a punch straight to the attackers face, stun them and you can gain the upper hand. White stars burst in his vision as an open hand slammed into his temple sending Stiles reeling. He stumbled back and caught his foot on the bed. A he fell his head caught the lip of the bed frame. He didn't cry out, he was too stunned. The person stepped over him but his equilibrium was making the room do the foxtrot around him. Stiles felt like he was going to be sick, he closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them he was staring into the mud brown eyes of his intruder. Stiles drew in a gasp to shout for help but the person thrust a clod of material over his mouth stifling the cry. Stiles raised his hands to fight them off once more but when he tried to breath the person gripped the edges of the rough cloth and pushed their hands towards the ground cutting off any air. Stiles' eye widened as his heart - still racing - began screeching for air. His lungs convulsed in his chest trying to suck in any molecule of air. Stiles made his heavy arms fumble at the iron grip of the attacker but his numb fingers only brushed at them. Tears streaked down his face and he whimpered but he glared at the attacker, if looks could kill the attacker would already be decomposing. 

Decomposing. 

Realisation fell over Stiles. This was their unsub. He was next. He was the next victim. 

They watched as the agent understood his fate. They smiled in a savage joy as his eyes rolled up in his head and his hands dropped senseless to the floor. Casting aside the rag they picked up the agent and began their journey back to the base. 

The room was silent expect of the soft buzzing. Stiles' phone lit up with Lydia called, the ringtone filling a small corner with sound. The silence clung like cobwebs to every place. The silence knew what had happened.


	9. Shock Factor

The phone buzzed and buzzed like a fly trapped in a thick glass bottle. The room was dark and there was no noise. Then a light switched on

"Alright alright" Reid muttered and reached over to his phone, "yeah"

"Reid! I was going to wait but I needed to tell you this! I found out what the burns are." Garcia's chirpy voice was a stark contrast to his thick sleep voice 

Reid sat up in bed, "what are they?"

"They're from two metal prongs found on shock collars" 

"Like the ones used on dogs?"

"Yeah but this time clearly they were strapped onto people's necks."

Reid ran a hand through his hair, "ok so they all were wearing a shock collar. The burns showed repeated action."

"My guess was that the unsub continuously shocked the victims."

"To stun them?"

"Maybe, where are the others? Maybe they have an idea" Garcia said

"In their rooms. I'll get them. Hold on" Reid stood up and hurried out his room grabbing the key as he left. Morgan was next door to him and Stiles one after. Knocking on Morgans door he called out, "Morgan? Morgan we got something." He waited thirty seconds then Morgans sleep covered face showed through the gloom of his room,

"What'd you say?"

"Garcia found something." Morgan immediately woke up, "I'm going to wake up Stiles"

"I'll be there is a second"

Reid jogged to the next room down the hall and banged on the door, "Stiles. Stiles wake up we got something!" He waited for any sound indicating that Stiles was awake. Morgan hurried past him and went to rouse the other three, "Stiles? Stiles you awake?" 

Still nothing. 

"What's happening?" Garcia's voice called from his phone speakers. An edge of concern wormed into her voice and his mind.

"Stiles isn't waking up"

"He must be a deeper sleeper than I am." She replied, her attempt at humour was still overshadowed by Stiles' lack of response

"Something's wrong." Reid said anxiously, "there isn't any sound at all."

"Where is Hotch?" 

"Just coming" Reid looked up at Hotch, Rossi, JJ and Morgan striding down the hall towards Stiles' room. 

"Why isn't he awake?" Rossi asked

"There's something wrong. I can't hear anything." His ear was pressed up to the door

Morgan and Hotch exchanged a glance. Reid stepped back and they simultaneously kicked the door open with a crash. Darkness receded into the corners as they switched on the light to reveal an empty room. 

"Where is he?" Garcia asked, "is he there?" Worry saturated her voice

"He's not here" Hotch answered and he walked into the bathroom, "there's an open window here." Rossi and Morgan followed him to see the window swinging in the cool gentle breeze. A small balcony led to an easy reach lower level from there the ground was only a small drop. 

"Guys" JJ's voice was fragile, "I found something" the three men rushed to JJ who was crouched by the bed, she pointed to the base of bed frame where a small circle of blood was starting to dry. 

"So he was attacked" Rossi thought aloud, "entree through the window, caught him unaware and...knocked him out?" 

"It defiantly was an attack" Morgan lifted up a small rectangle, "he left his phone."

~~~~~~~

He was cold. He frowned and tried to reach for the covers but he couldn't find them. Must've kicked them off in the night. He turned over onto his back to try and find a comfier position but the mattress felt hard. Harder then what he remembered. He blearily opened his eyes and saw ginger. Lydia. She was speaking to him but her words were muffled. He frowned as his blurry vision swam slightly. He was really out of it, did he drink? A soft buzz was felt around his shoulders and his hand twitched. Lydia spoke again. She says two words. He could tell that. He tried to speak but his mouth felt numb and cloudy. That buzz came back again but it had more of a bee sting feel. He grimaced and tried to swat it away but his arm felt unresponsive. Once again Lydia spoke. Something was wrong, her voice was different. Lower. More...masculine. He blinked heavily. 

Then he felt like he was ripped in two. Pure agony shredded his thoughts and he was suspended in a colourless void. 

Gasping Stiles snapped his eyes open. Sweat dripped down his forehead but the cool air swirling around him made him feel cold and he involuntarily shivered. As he juddered he felt a pressure on his neck. Lifting a hand to his throat he felt a hard plastic ring circling his throat, in the middle of his neck was a bulky rectangle and two small prongs touched his skin. The skin under the two metal tips was tender. His breath was still coming in shaky gasps, Stiles dragged his gaze up from the floor to his kidnapper. The gaudy ginger hair of a man stood out in the grey-blue night glow of the room.

Stiles instinctively scrambled back but the man lifted his hand. In it was a small rectangular box, it has a quarter of the size of his palm. Stiles halted, he knew what that was. He knew what the burns were on the victim's neck. The box would allow a charge to race through him when he depressed the button. His chest was the only movement, it arched up and sank back in heavy gasps. Shock from the first charge was still zipping through him. Adrenaline cursed him into a blank mind. 

"You woke up. You listened" the man spoke and a grin slowly tore across his face. It made Stiles think of when you rip a piece of material watching the fibres stretch then snap apart, his voice too reminded Stiles of somebody but he just couldn't place it, "good" man said his tone mocking Stiles who sat vulnerable on the floor. The leer was still fixed in place, stretched over his cheeks, "if you stay like that then there will be no problems."

Stiles suddenly knew where that voice was from. The man who he had bumped into yesterday. Or was it earlier today? Time was malleable at the best of times and he didn't know how long he had been out for. Stiles hadn't moved from his position, arms taught and elbows pressed hard onto the grainy concrete floor, legs bent to give him more push if he needed to scramble away. His arms were trembling from exhaustion and adrenaline. His heart was palpitating to such an extent that he was rocking slightly from it. 

The man took a step back towards the door and was half way through it when suddenly Stiles found his voice,

"Hey! Wait! What are you doing?" His throat was dry and his voice raspy. He climbed onto his knees, the cold ground pressing onto his knee caps 

The man paused but did not answer. Stiles semi leapt to his feet and scurried to the door in an effort to escape but a blinding shock of pain blasted his mind open and his limbs fell from underneath him. Through his muted scream he heard the man laugh and the final clap of the metal door closing. Stiles dragged himself up from the floor, tears now cascading down his cheeks, and pounded on the sheet of impenetrable metal

"Hey! HEY! You sick son of a bitch let me out! What did I do to you! Hey!" He slid his back down the door so he sat on the floor. His hands held around his knees, tears winding down his face, legs drawn up to his chin. He had never felt more alone.

"Please..."

~~~~~~~

Lydia bolted up in her bed covers flinging back, electricity thrumming through her veins and Stiles' scream filling her ears. She barely suppressed her scream writhing in her throat. She threw off her sheets and leapt to her phone. She knew something was wrong, terribly wrong. Life threateningly wrong. Stiles should have called her. Raising her phone to her ear she glanced at the time, 3:30am. In Texas it would be 2:30. He should have called her hours ago. Panic ran riot in her mind.

The line was answered, "Stiles?!" She gasped, "Stiles is that you?!"

"No. Who is this" a new male voice answered. It was deep and held command

"My name is Lydia, is Stiles there with you?" She held a balled up fist to her chest and fiddled with her thumb 

"Lydia? Stiles' girlfriend?"

"Yes, is he there with you?" She rushed desperate to know if he was ok

A pause. Then. The word she was dreading, "no." 

She stumbled back just as her legs gave out she landed on the bed, "where is he?" Her voice sounded thin and scared in her own head

"We don't know. But we are going to find out-"

"I'm coming over." There was no room for argument in her voice, purpose filled her up and she set her mind, "where are you" 

"Lydia I don't think-"

She cut off the man, "where are you? I am coming. I have experience with this stuff" 

There was a soft muttering beyond the reach of the speakers, she waited and closed her eyes. There was still a drumming thud of pain in her body making her ache, "Lydia are you there?" The voice was female now and more distant. On speakerphone. 

"Yes"

""We are at Jefferson, Texas. In the Hôtel de Reve. Can you be there tomorrow?" 

"I can be there today." She ended the call and dropped the phone onto her sheets. As she was packing her bag she felt more than heard a word. An echo. The softest sound made her pause. 

"Stiles?" She softly, desperately asked and waited.

Then silence whispered the word

"Please..."


	10. Lydia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the beautiful comments and kudos, you guys are the best. 
> 
> I am still continuously amazed at the reaction this has gotten. 
> 
> Thank you and enjoy!

His eyes drifted around the room. The cold walls dark blue gloom that shrouded the area. He wrapped his arms around his torso trying to push away the cool air and accusing silence. 

"You ok?" Morgan stepped up behind Reid and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. 

"No" there was no need to lie, "we should have heard him, why didn't he make a noise? We could have stopped this."

"Hey" Morgan gently shook Reid, "stop thinking like that. We have information, we have an upper hand this time. We will find him." Morgan turned to leave.

Reid nodded mutely but he still was consumed by guilt. Stiles was his friend and he had let him be taken, Reid felt responsible. Logically he knew it was not his fault but he still felt culpable in his friends kidnapping, "the worst bit" Morgan paused and looked back at Reid who was staring out the open window, "is that we know what is happening to him."

~~~~~~~

Stiles hadn't moved from his tightly curled foetal position by the door. His eyes ached and his chest and throat were sore from the tears and exhaustion. He would have slept but at irregular moments - sometimes thirty seconds apart sometimes five minutes - he would get a shock from the collar. It wasn't as bad as the first two, rather than feeling like he was being set on fire these were more like an almighty boot to the head. Being as sensitive as he was in his exhausted state every pulse was awful. His body was pleading for sleep but he just could not drift off. 

The room was square, one small window offered his fresh air and light. The moon's sickly light brushed the facing wall enhancing the shadows draped in every corner. By one wall was a bucket with a plastic bag lining it, his toilet. There was a bed, metal and bolted to the floor. The mattress was thin and a sheet covered it. It seemed ironic, there was a bed but no offer of sleep. Just another taunt at his situation. But then again anything would be better than the floor. 

Like an old man he climbed to his feet and stiffly walked over to the bed. As he neared the bed another random shock made him spasm and he only just caught himself on the edge of the bed. On his knees and breathing hard he forced himself onto the bed. Once he had dragged himself up he lay on his side and drew the sheet over his body and up to his shoulders. 

There he lay, electricity shooting through him, shivering, hoping, praying someone would rescue him. 

~~~~~~~

Lydia hurried from the cab and into the hotels' lobby. Her small suitcase rolled behind her bouncing over the cobbles in her haste. She strode over to the reception desk and had lifted a hand to ring the bell when a voice called her

"Lydia?" It was the woman's voice. Lydia turned round and was a slender woman with long wavy blonde hair. She wore a fitted sky blue shirt and a trouser suit. Her eyes were wide with worry.

"Yes." 

"I'm Jenifer, call me JJ. Come with me." Lydia could tell she was trying to follow procedure but her anxiety for Stiles was making her skip all the niceties. As they were walking into a conference room JJ asked, "why did you call?"

Lydia thought quickly she couldn't say about her banshee powers but she didn't want to seem suspicious, "Stiles rings me every evening. Always around the same time. Normally I would have rung him but I was exhausted last night so I just went straight to bed. Then I woke up at 3 and realised he hadn't rung, or even tried to after I had fallen asleep so I called him. And you picked up." She still had the echo of Stiles' voice swirling maddeningly around her head, hearing it but not really. A presence who reminded her what she could lose. 

JJ nodded and proceeded into the table-filled room. Three other men sat around the table. A broad shouldered man with sincere eyes. The one next to him was the oldest, he had grey-speckled hair and tired eyes. The last sat with his back rigid and eye fixed on the opposite wall. 

"Morgan, Rossi, Hotch" JJ pointed out the men, "this is Lydia." She told the team. She looked around, "where's Reid?" 

Rossi answered "he's in the bathroom."

~~~~~~~

Reid splashed water over his face trying to make him think. He still felt that terrible clawing guilt ripping through his insides. Stiles was his friend and he had let him down. 

He pressed his hands onto the sink rim and stared into the mirror, "cmon Spencer" he muttered to his reflection, "cmon. Get it together. We are going to find him" his grip in the ceramic was tightening turning his finger tips and knuckles white. 

A gentle knock on the bathroom door made him start 

"Spence?" JJ's voice came through the wood, "Spencer you ok?"

Grabbing a paper towel he dried his face and opened the door, "yeah I'm fine." 

JJ knew better, "I know you're finding this hard, but we will find him and he will be fine. Lydia's here now so we have another foothold." She smiled and brought him into a hug, he pushed his nose into her shoulder just below her neck and closed his eyes. He reassured himself with her comfort. JJ understood him. 

They walked back to the conference room together and Reid saw the vivid hair of Lydia. She turned around when the door opened, a futile hope for Stiles to walk through them instead of Reid and JJ. 

"Hi" he raised a hand, "in Spencer Reid"

"Lydia Martin" 

"We should go to the Sheriffs station we are all here." Hotch spoke up for the first time. Unanimously the team rose and filed out the room leaving the silence roiling in their wake. 

~~~~~~~

Lydia's eyes swept over the evidence board seeing only the twisted forms of the victims. Tears pricked her eyes and she tore her eyes away from it. Sucking in a deep breath she turned to face the watching team,

"So what do we know?" 

They had all been waiting, still and tense but when she spoke their tension vanished like a taught string that was cut. Morgan was the first to speak up,

"All of the victims were sleep deprived, starved and their cause of death was drowning. They also had two identical burns on their necks" he picked up a photograph and handed it to her, he still spoke as she glanced at it, "its from a-"

"Shock collar" she interrupted looking up, "he puts shock collars on them?" Her voice was strained with anger and fear. The others were surprised by the speed that she recognised the weapon.

Morgan nodded, "and the burns show the collar was regularly used, they got shocked repeatedly."

"Not enough to kill them but enough to stun them probably" Rossi offered, "maybe the unsub is weak and can't overpower them?"

"What if the unsub is a woman?" JJ added, "maybe she can't hold a man without stunning him"

"The main question is why did they target Stiles" Reid spoke up from the outside of the circle. His eyes roamed the board looking but not seeing, "can we look at the wallet and glasses today? Maybe that will give us a clue."

"Ok, Reid and Morgan you go look at the objects, we will see if anything else calls up."

~~~~~~~

The glasses held nothing interesting. They were scratched and an arm was bent. That was it. No prints, no DNA. The wallet too was not helpful. It was a typical wallet: cash ("money is still there, clearly money isn't their goal." Morgan said), cards, faded family photo, receipts. Reid carried the items in their evidence bags back to their room, neither he nor Morgan spoke. They both felt that crushing emptiness, this had been their last clear chance to save Stiles, now they had nothing. 

Lydia looked up from the files she was reading with an expectant expression but when she saw their despondent faces her spirits plummeted. Stiles was being dragged away from her faster and faster. 

Still she asked, "did you find anything?" 

Morgan shook his head looking morose, Reid just placed the items onto the table top. Everyone's eyes were drawn to them, for a moment they simply stared at them each trying to formulate an explanation for why Stiles was chosen. 

"When was the last time Stiles was seen?" Hotch asked 

"Garcia could find out" Morgan pulled out his phone and dialled her number

"Good morning man of my dreams" her voice held a false happiness, like it was more formality than genuine emotion

"Baby girl I need your beautiful brain again"

"And there I thought you were drawn to my stunning looks" her soft smile could be heard

"I need you to look at the hotel cctv footage and send it to us if anything of Stiles looks odd."

"I shall strap on my gloves and dig for these clips" she clicked off.

"And now we wait"


	11. Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a purely Stiles-centric chapter. 
> 
> Also there is a description of a panic attack just to be aware of. 
> 
> Thank you for waiting this long! I have been away and there was no wifi so no updates, but I did manage to write more of this up so more updates are coming!
> 
> Enjoy! And the kudos and comments are still amazing and I am spellbound by your constant support. Thank you so much

30 hours. 

Stiles had been awake for 30 hours. It could have even been more, his body clock was skewed. His eyes itched for sleep, often his lids struggling to remain open. His head ached and the back of his neck was painful, every move made him grimace. His arms were crossed around his torso, trying to snatch any shred of heat. He had shivered to begin with but soon he stopped. Either he was hypothermic or his body was too tired. 

He had stared at the door for hours. He wasn't expecting anything to happen, his eyes just wanted something to look at. A shock came then and he twitched violently. Suddenly his vision dipped into fuzz and his head began to swim. Nausea convulsed up Stiles' torso. Clambering down from his bed he scrabbled over to the bin, his muscles were slow making his actions were clumsy and erratic. His throat burned with bile. His hand reached out for the metal object but he brought too much pressure down on it and it fell over, breathing heavily through his nostrils he yanked it upright and only just managed to get his head over it when he was sick. 

His body tried to purge itself of exhaustion and fear and he vomited until he had nothing left. His throat pulsed from the acidic bile and spit swung like a pendulum from his bottom lip. If he had any left, tears would have been streaming down his face. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut and pushed himself back from the trash can. He brought his arm up to his mouth and wiped his face. The sudden burst of action had left him even more drained than before and sweaty. 

He leant against the wall and tilted his head back onto the cool wall. His raspy breathing was the only sound, it filled his head. The constant grating noise made him gasp more, his breaths sped up and the sound got louder. His put his hands to his ears and clamped down on them. His breaths wouldn't stop, his chest was running away from him, his heart was palpitating at an alarming rate. His eyes darted around the room desperate for the panic attack to stop. His harsh breathing was the only thing he could hear. He knew he was making scared whimpers but he couldn't hear them. His head was swimming from over-oxygenation. Darkness was threatening in the corners of his vision. His fingers scratched the side of his head and he clamped his hands over a ears. His heartbeat added to the cacophony in his head and he screamed through gritted teeth. 

A hard shock snapped him out of it and made him haul in a huge lungful of air and he went as floppy as a marionette whose strings were cut. The man was standing over him. Stiles looked up to him from the floor and brought his shaky arms underneath him and pushed himself slow into a sitting position.

"You lasted longer than the others." There was no accusing, questioning nor impressed tone in his voice. It was merely a statement. 

Stiles swallowed dryly and continued to slow his grating breaths. The man was relatively short and stocky. His flat face still showed the pink scratches from Stiles when he kidnapped him. 

"What do you want from me?" Stiles whispered, his mouth felt thick and it was hard to shape the words with his lips. 

"Not from you. From them" the man's voice swirled in the air distorted by exhaustion. 

Stiles swallowed, eyes closed and asked, "Who's them?" He tilted his head up and squinted at his kidnapper.

The man didn't reply, he only tilted his head like a dog. He considered Stiles for a moment then dropped a bottle of water onto the floor where it bounced with a clatter, spun on his heel and left the room. Stiles watched immobile on the floor. He didn't try to follow this time. He knew it was futile and would only bring him more pain. He waited for a solid minute counting out the seconds until he reached for the water. Just to ensure nothing happened. The liquid burned his parched throat as he sipped it. Not wanting to make himself sick again he only took a few mouthfuls and then screwed on the lid.

He crawled back to the bed and slowly pulled the sheet up to his shoulders and let the water bottle fall to the floor, his left hand hanging down brushing the concrete floor, feeling the sand grains imbedded in it as he laid on his side. 

For a long while no substantial thought crossed Stiles' mind, he simply laid there. Then he thought about 'them'. Who were they? The Pack? The Team? His family? Normal civilians? The cops? Musing over his disjointed thoughts Stiles felt his body go pleasantly numb. It was better than constant aching. A shock came and he jolted knocking the water slightly away from the bed. 

His eyes followed it as it rolled away from him. His thoughts turned to the Pack. He wished he had werewolf strength now, he could have broken that door and be snug at home right now. He realised he still hadn't called Scott. What if he didn't get to call him again? What if he had missed the last time he could ever speak to his life long brother? What would Lydia think. Lydia. He had forgotten to call her before he was taken. What if he never heard her voice again? 

"Stop thinking like that" he muttered to himself clenching his hands, "stop it." What would she have done? After realising he had not called her she would have called. When he didn't pick up then what? Maybe she was asleep and had only realised in the morning. By then the team would have found his empty room and abandoned phone. Maybe they called her from all the missed calls. The team were resourceful they would have used any shred of evidence. If Lydia was with them she could help them. She could even call Scott in. His super senses would be a massive help. 

"They'll find me. They'll come for me." He whispered to himself. A single frail glimmer of hope. He dare not take his eyes off it lest it be lost forever. 

~~~~~~~

He watched his prisoner on the grimy, grainy computer screen. He was leaned it to capture any sound from the silent room. 

"Stop thinking like that" the thin sound came from his speakers, "stop it" he grinned, he was already breaking. His mind whirling with the worst scenarios. He was giving up. The man grinned a savage grin. He loved watching them break. Their minds enslave their hope, burning it to a cold grey curl of ash. 

He was leaned in close to the screen watching eagerly, soon he would start shouting at himself. Trying to convince himself he was not going to die, that he would kill their kidnapper if they ever renter the cell. All the others had, one by one they fell prisoner to themselves. It was a play that played out over and over.

But instead he said, "They'll find me. They'll come for me." His expectant joy was snuffed out. Confusion consumed him, this wasn't the script. Where was his quiet confidence coming from? Rage raised its ugly head and snarled, he was ruining it. His play was being ruined by this idiot. He growled and leapt to his feet causing his chair to flip backwards onto the floor. 

He stormed out of the small tech room and sprinted down the hallways until he neared the prisoners door. He pulled out the key, unlocked the door and crashed into the cell. At once he pounced on the young man. He dragged him off the bed and punched him hard in the solar plexus silencing the shout that was inevitably boiling. The prisoner was severely winded and lay vulnerable on the floor. Images flashed in the man's mind as he hit, punched and kicked the prisoner until they were beaten away. His heart pumped hard in his chest and sweat clung to his shirt, his breaths came hard and fast. He tried to push away the memories and focused on the man curled up at his feet clutching his chest and wheezing in his breaths. 

"They won't come for you. They never come for you. Ever." He snarled, his words coated with poison and agonising truth. He jabbed a finger at the prone man. He reached into his pocket and found the little plastic box and pressed the button again and again finding a savage, sadistic pleasure in his power. Finally he had power. He blinked and saw the prisoner now clawing at his neck, a small trail of scarlet blood oozing from his nose and over the ridges of his gasping lips. He watched fascinated as the young man convulsed and arched on the floor, every muscle contracted and twisted. He stopped pressing the button and promptly left. 

He locked the door and sucked in a deep breath. He felt better now. His rage was gone, pity did not replace it mind you. No. He liked it, liked that power surging through him as he decided their fates. All of them. He was their God, a cruel and capricious God but he revelled in it. Sighing contentedly he walked away from the door and from the sobs of the agonised man.

~~~~~~~

Stiles lay immobile on the floor sobs wracking his ribs which were on fire. He had no breath to spare but he couldn't suck anymore in without his sides screaming at him. He gasped from the floor and covered his face with his free left hand. He dragged his fingers through his hair purposefully scratching his scalp to try and bring his focus off his agonising broken ribs. He was sure they were so, thankfully his limbs and skull were intact. Red welts showed where the man had slapped his face and arms in his sudden frenzy while his abdomen would bruise spectacularly soon. He was most concerned now with internal bleeding. The man had not held back and his steel capped boots had been kicked hard into his torso. This attack made Gerard look like he had flicked him continuously with an elastic band. 

Stiles made to uncurl from the floor but immediately his ribs screeched at him to remain still. He needed to stop crying, his erratic breaths were creating more pain and movement than was needed. Gradually he brought his chest under control and he slowed his breaths down trying to minimalise movement. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed. His throat felt like it was ripping apart, the twin metal tips of the shock collar pressed onto his skin and he involuntarily jerked back to try and escape its touch. While the physical beating had been awful the shocks were horrific. Every cell had been individually shredded and sewn back together by a madman only to receive the same treatment over an over and over. He knew he had been screaming but the sound hadn't reached his ears. His hands still trembled from the electricity. A terrible fear consumed him and slipped like a solid ice cube down his throat, he had never felt this stabbing terror before, not of monsters, murderers, nor even death. 

He was incarcerated in hell.


	12. Scattered Evidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is part II of today's updates!

The phone only rang for a second before Morgan pounced on it, "what have you got?" 

"Well there was nothing funny on the hotel footage-" Garcia began but the team groaned as another possible lead was lost, "but then I thought what about the police station. The unsub could have been there. There was nothing in the station but when he escorted a woman out there was something interesting." 

Hotch's iPad dinged and he opened up a file sent by Garcia, it was black and white cctv footage outside the police station building. Stiles and Theilia were talking, she left and Stiles made to come back in when he bumped it a person. They apologised picked something up off the floor and carried on. 

Garcia continued to speak after they watched it, "do you see that men who bumped into Stiles?"

"Yeah" JJ answered, "he gives something to Stiles." 

"Those are his keys" Lydia replied eyes locked on the screen, "he often fiddles with them when he's thinking or nervous"

"He must have dropped them when the man walked into him" Reid added, "they talk for a short time, do you know what they say?"

"If I were a lip reader I would tell you, my lovelies, but sadly I know nothing of the skill."

"Can you zoom in?" JJ asked

"I can but the quality is terrible. It will stay grainy" Garcia policies and pulled the image in closer to the two men

Stiles was reaching out for his keys when the man glanced down at them, "right there" Garcia said, "did you seen that?"

"See what?" Rossi asked glancing at JJ

"Look at his face when he looks at Stiles' keys." Garcia instructed

It was only a micro-expression but the team were trained for such things, as shadow passed over the man's face. Only for a fleeting second but instead of an impassive passerby a roiling rage surfaced in the man's face. 

"Lydia, what's on Stiles' keys?" Reid asked, eyes still watching the screen

"Um, his house keys, a bottle opener, my house keys, a photo-"

"Of what?" Hotch broke in

"It's of the P-" she broke off not wanting to call them a Pack in front of Stiles' colleagues, "its of our friendship group."

"Were you close?"

"Yeah practically family." 

"Maybe it has something to do with that..." Rossi mused, "family. What if the unsub had issues with their own family and takes it out on someone who is family orientated." 

"Victim number Three, John Threpe's wallet had a family photo in it. Maybe that's what gave him away?" Reid offered

"Garcia do we know who this man is?" Morgan asked 

"Not yet but he cannot long evade me. Like a coffee imbued racehorse I am chasing him." Garcia clicked off

"We need to talk to the victim's families, see if they were centred around their families." Hotch announced, "we also need to deliver the profile."

~~~~~~~

Hotch observed his team as they each talked to a grief stricken family member. Shocked parents, widows and siblings all sat huddled in a chair as they retold their lost family members life.

Alice Day's parents sat holding hands, her mothers long straight hair was swept over her right shoulder and her left hand fiddled with the end as she spoke, "Alice would never do anything like that."

"Like what?" Reid asked

"Drugs, smoking. She was the best girl anyone could ask for; hard working, smart, loving."

"She had nothing to do with any drugs nor alcohol." Reid confirmed, "can I ask you, was Alice particularly family orientated?"

"Oh yes" her father replied sitting up in his chair, "we have three younger nephews and Alice...she adored them" his eyes glistened with tears, "I just can't believe..."

"I understand"

Morgan too was going through the motions with Daniel Morrison's parents. They were divorced but since their son had been kidnapped they had worked together tirelessly to try and find him. He too loved his family, spending time with them helping out when they had gatherings. 

John Threpe had no children but instead had left his wife without a husband. She sat hunched in her chair clutching a tissue. She constantly was scrunching it and flattening it out against her knee as she spoke, "John always wanted children. He said the house was too quiet. We had nephews and nieces but it just wasn't the same." She sucked in a shaky breath, "what will I do now without him? He was always there for me, there for everyone in fact."

Amy Patel's mother had died five years ago from a hereditary disease leaving her father to raise her and three younger siblings: "she was like their mother, she helped them get ready for school, cooked their meals, and helped with their homework and still found time for herself. I don't know what I will do without her." He tried to add more but he broke down into tears, sobs racking his body and the young doleful eyes of his children looked up to him silently asking where their sister was. JJ watched with her heart breaking, this family was delicate and without Amy was even more fragile. 

Murphy's fiancée looked grey from shock, like he was going to pass out any second, "he told me he as going to see his parents since they're moving to France in a few weeks. When he didn't come back I got worried, even more when he didn't pick up my calls." He paused, "when I got the call...I..." he couldn't continue.

Nancy's parents were almost hysterical. They never stopped crying demanding to know what happened to their daughter, Rossi tried to placate them but her father raised his voice, "why would anyone want to hurt our daughter? She never did anything to hurt anyone. She loved her family, she was in the top running team at school, she had good grades, never was involved in anything dodgy. Why was she killed?" His voice cracked on the last word and he glared accusingly at Rossi who remained calm and asked, "would you say your daughter was family orientated?"

Her father spluttered, "of course she was, she always went to see her grandparents, helped care for her two years old cousin. What I want to know is why my daughter-"

"Mr Yewman" Rossi interrupted, "I am terribly sorry about your daughter, I really am but would you bear in mind that these other people have also lost a loved one. They too have felt the pain your are experiencing right now but for much longer and they did not know what had happened to them until recently. So please, lower your voice and take a breath." Nancy's father blinked and sat back in his chair running his hand through his hair,

"I'm sorry. I just...I just can't believe this has happened."

~~~~~~~

The team stood in a semi circle facing the cops. Hotch was speaking:

"This unsub is not an ordinary kidnapper. He has motive, something to prove. He targets people who are family-orientated. He feels envious of their connection with their family, possibly he lacked care as a child. He is a sadist, getting enjoyment out of his prisoners sufferings, he most likely watched them as they become more and more sleep deprived."

Rossi then took over, "however, he never kills them outright. He tortures them but they only die after drowning in the river."

A cop interrupted, "but couldn't he hold them under?"

"Not here, all the victims have shown bruises from impact suggesting they fell in the after, which stunned them. Already in their sleep deprived state they would have succumbed quickly."

"We urge everyone to look out for each other. This man will fit into the community, he will blend in because he has to." JJ added. 

~~~~~~~

Reid stood up and looked at the clock on the wall. Stiles had been gone one and three quarter days. Sleep deprived, starved, he would he an emotional wreck, his vision and hearing would be inconsistent, hand-eye coordination would be off, and a constant buzzing in his head would be grating on his already shot nerves. 

He couldn't just sit here, he caught JJ's eye and gestured he was going outside as they finished off the profile. He strode outside and stood squinting in the sunlight right on the spot where Stiles watched Theilia leave. He turned in a circle looking for vantage points where the unsub could have first noticed him. The man in the video had been walking from left to right on the screen, therefore coming from his right. Reid turned towards it, the road carried on straight for a long time, long enough for someone to see and watch Stiles. 

As Reid observed he saw a short man with curly hair, similar to that in the footage. He had a plastic bag looped around his arm and a large box full of wine bottles in his hands. Reid pulled out his phone and began to dial Hotch's number as he watched the man. He walked up to a car and tried to fish for keys in his pockets. The man glanced to his right and saw Reid watching him,

"Excuse me, could you help me for a second? I can't get my keys while holding this and I don't want to put it down in the mud."

Reid halted his finger that just hovered over the call button, if this was the unsub he wouldn't be so open. Then again Dahmer did, he lured his victims by offering things. Reid nodded and approached the man who grinned, "thanks, these are so damn heavy, hope this is no problem for you."

As Reid reached out to hold the wine box his cardigan slipped and revealed his gun, the man instantly saw it and visibly tensed, "you ah...are you with the cops?" 

"No." Reid clarified but didn't want to give any more tot his man in case he frightened him.

"FBI?" Reid's silence was answer enough, the man had opened his car trunk by now and had placed the plastic bag in it, he reached for the wine box, "you must be here about that guy who had gone missing"

Reid paused, how did he know about that? The team hadn't revealed anything about Stiles. 

The man instantly saw his error. How could he have been so stupid? Let his secret slip like that? There was no getting back from that now, his plan would have to change. Slowly he placed the wine box in his spacious car boot and slipped his hand around the neck of a bottle. In the corner of his eye he saw the agent reach into his pocket and draw out his phone. He couldn't call them, his prisoner would be taken away. That would be cheating. In a fluid motion he drew the bottle out of its section and swung it at the man's head. 

Reid saw the suddenly flurry of movement but had no time to react when he saw the bottle slinging towards him. He saw it coming at his face, the next was nothing. 

Movies always dramatise these movements with the glass shattering in a splinter of noise, wine spilling everywhere, staining the ground like blood. In reality the glass remained intact and a hollow thump was the only noise before Reid dropped to the floor. Hurriedly the man bundled up the agent and thrust him into the trunk. Nipping round to the drivers seat he sped off leaving only a bottle of wine rolling in a circle and the guilty silence.

~~~~~~~

Garcia frantically typed away desperate to find any evidence that might help the find Stiles. Her rings shone in the light of her multiple screens. She glanced up and for a fraction of a second was looking, not at her screens, but at those of Tobias Hankel as she was trying to find Reid all those years ago.

She frowned as she thought about that case; there had been nothing in Tobias' side of life that indicated violence, it was all from his father, Charles. The moment she changed tactic she gasped. Her fingers fumbled as she called Hotch.

"Greetings, I have found our mystery man." Garcia declared, "his name is Dale Wallis. He has no priors, no criminal record. He has a job at a local garage. Nothing strange about this man-"

"Nothing suspicious?" Rossi interrupted his voice slightly strained

"Hold your horses, I didn't finish. He never did anything but his mother. Well she was an interesting one. She was diagnosed as being severely bipolar, I mean one minute she would bake you an apple pie the next she would try to stab you with the same knife she was cutting apples with just before. She was arrested for assault, attacking a man in the street with a knife and - this is the kicker - for abusing her son."

"How was he abused?" Hotch asked

"She kept him in a cellar and starved him. There was also one time where a passerby saw her trying to drown Dale in a stream."

"That fits our profile pretty much to a T. Starvation, drowning, the kidnapping would be a way to get them to a cellar." Morgan listed, "the shock collar could just be a sadistic add on."

"Where did he live?" JJ asked

"Just outside town, in a rural house. I'll send the address now"

"Thanks Garcia" Morgan smiled

Garcia did too, "anything for you my lovely." She clicked off and leant back in her chair. Finally things were looking their way.


	13. Scott

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I was debated whether nor to bring Scott into this but after a few requested I chose to do so!
> 
> Enjoy!

Lydia waited for her instant coffee to pour into the polystyrene cup, she hadn't stopped thinking about Stiles all day. She had rifled through files, rewatched the cctv footage, walked in circles both physically and mentally to try and find Stiles. 

The machine beeped and Lydia reached out to grasp the cup, suddenly an almighty pain pounded on the right side of her skull. Her grip vanished and the cup slipped from her numb fingers spilling the coffee onto the floor. Not noticing she staggered back and rushed into the room where the team were discussing something. She burst through the doors and demanded,

"Where's Reid?" Her frantic eyes and heavy breathing made the others startle

"He went outside when we were giving the profile." JJ answered 

"Shouldn't he be back by now? I didn't see him outside the doors" she blurted. Lydia couldn't tell them how she had felt an attack on Reid, the blunt force of an object colliding with his skull. It was unbelievably frustrating.

JJ turned to the phone on the table, "Garcia could you quickly look at the live cctv outside the precinct?" She paused, "is Reid there?"

There was a soft tapping of keys, "he isn't outside the front."

"That would be the only place he would go. That was where Stiles was last seen. He would be there to look at the area." Lydia leaned towards the speaker, "Garcia"

"Here to search"

"Rewind the tape until you see Reid. Go from there" 

The images on Hotch's iPad sped backwards until Reid stood outside. 

"This was only five minutes ago." Morgan noted

They watched Reid as he thoughts through Stiles' motions. He then reached into his pocket ("he's dialling a number" Morgan noted) then paused. He nodded at someone and walked out of the shot. 

"Garcia find any other CCTV in the area" Hotch ordered, "now"

"Already doing it, sir" Garcia frantically sought out any camera in the vicinity, "got one! It's diagonally facing the precinct but we can see him" 

Hotch's iPad switched to a different angle and they could see Reid approaching a man with a box in his arms. They talked for a second and Reid took the box as the man opened his car boot. They continued to talk as the man retook his box and but he paused as he placed it in the car. Reid too had paused, his body langue tensed and his face was masked with suspicion. The man's body obstructed his hands but they saw what he was fidgeting with when he spun round and hit Reid hard over the head with a wine bottle. 

JJ gasped and stepped back into Rossi as Reid collapsed into the floor and lay still. The man then threw aside the bottle and dragged Reid into the back of his car shutting the door with enough force for the car to bob at the back. The man then sped round to the drivers door, got in and drove away. 

"Garcia rewind to when he was walking round the car." Hotch's voice was tight with anger and fear, he had let two of his team members be taken now, "try and see his face."

Garcia wiped her tears away from her face and tapped her keyboard until she just caught a half angle as the man turned away from the car. Rossi pulled a picture of the previous CCTV from their glass evidence board and placed it next to the screen, "ding ding ding. We have a winner" his emotionless voice added to their shocking reality. 

Lydia sat down in a chair and raked her hands through her hair, she needed to talk to someone. Someone who under stood. Scott. "I need some air" she told them softly and left the room. Lydia was about to go outside when she paused. She couldn't go outside she would run the risk of being taken. Instead she sought out an empty room, there was a small disused interview room. She locked the door and dialled Scott's number. 

"Hey Lydia. Haven't heard from you in a while. You ok?" His carefree tone was too much for her and she broke down in tears. Great heaving sobs wracked her chest, "Lydia? Lydia! What's wrong?" Scott frantically asked

"It's Stiles" she replied

"What about him?" She could hear Scott walking into a quiet room. The crackle of voices int he background was shut out. 

"He...he was taken" 

"What? Taken where? By who?" 

"We don't know. He was working a case. One morning I woke up and I could feel..." she tapered off

"What did you feel, Lydia, what did you feel"

"An electric shock. Not a small one, it was huge, Scott. I felt his pain and I was so scared. I...I couldn't..." she heaved in a breath, "All the previous victims had shock collars on. And they were sleep deprived" 

Scott was silent. She could hear him running his hand through his hair and pacing, a low growl passed through the speakers, "when was this" 

"Two days ago. We haven't stopped looking-"

"I know you have Lyds. I'm not angry at you."

"And now another one of the team had been taken."

"When?" 

"About seven minutes ago." She whispered, "Scott I can't do this without my powers but they don't know. How do I explain that I felt Reid's attack? How do I explain that I felt Stiles' pain?" Her voice wavered as she spoke. 

"Lydia, I'm coming now. Hold on until I get there. Ok?" 

"Yeah. Just...hurry."

~~~~~~~

Stiles laid on the floor, he was passed feeling the cold. He was just...there. He simply existed. The shocks raked every part of his body, firing pain through him at sporadic intervals. He was watching the door, not waiting for it to open his eyes just needed something to look at. He blinked slowly and as he reopened them the door swung open. A person tumbled in. They scrambled to the floor next to him.

"Stiles?" He recognised the voice 

"Mm" he made a noise

"Stiles can you hear me?" The voice asked. Stiles frowned and looked up at the face. They had brown hair and wide scared eyes. Scott? Was Scott here? That would be nice he hadn't seen him in a long time. He forgot to call Scott, he tried to tell him that but no sound passed his lips. Nor any understandable one at least. Scott asked again and Stiles tried to answer but his throat was dry. He coughed the hollow sound reverberating round his head. Scott pulled away from him, Stiles tried to plead him to not leave, he wanted Scott to stay. He hadn't seen Scott in a long time. He forgot to call him. He felt bad about that. Scott reached out for something, his blurry hands gripped an object, it glinted in the evening light, it looked like a diamond shining in the sun. A fuzz washed over his body and his eyes shivered making his vision tremble. His eye partially rolled back in their sockets as his nearly passed out but then a shock burst from the twin metal pins and he was snapped back to the floor. 

"Stiles? Stiles are you ok?" Scott asked again

Stiles thought he nodded and a hand slipped underneath his head gently drawing him up into a sitting position, the hand then wrapped around his shoulders supporting him more. Stiles was breathing quite heavily from the shock and the pain moving.

Scott pressed the water bottle rim up to his lips and tilted the bottle do Stiles could drink the slow dribble of water. It was blessed relief. His parched throat was finally soothed by the water. Scott lowered the bottle and placed it on the floor. Stiles' head swam as he looked at at Scott it was nice Scott was here, he hadn't seen him in a long time. He had forgotten to call Scott. Stiles frowned, hadn't he already thought that? His brain was muddled, he could barely what just happened. 

"Stiles are you ok?" Scott asked

Stiles forced himself to speak, "M'fine Scotty" his voice sounded like when he had been swimming and water blocked his ears, it was all in his head and nothing in his ears. However, when he mumbled Scott froze.

"Stiles...I'm not Scott."


	14. The Newbie

Reid woke up when a big bump in the road shook him enough to rouse him. He blinked but the darkness was absolute. He rubbed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened. He had been standing outside, he saw a man who looked suspicious. He had been about to call Hotch to warn him... then what? He had a blank space where there should have been memory. 

The road was uneven and potholes threw Reid about. He braced himself against the walls and back of the trunk. Finally the breakneck speed slowed and finally the car came to a halt. Reid shifted his position and his foot tapped against the wine box. He wiggled into a foetal position and reached below his legs trying to grasp a bottle. The small boot left little room and he only just managed to squeeze the bottle out before moonlight struck his eyes. He punched out his arm with the bottle and tried desperately to hit his attacker. His wrist was grabbed and twisted sharply causing his hand to go suddenly numb. He dropped the bottle which smashed on the stony ground. He withdrew his hand quickly into the car and tucked it against his chest. Pulses of pain wove up his wrist and into his stomach; it must be sprained now. Great job Spencer, ruin something that can help you escape. 

The man thrust the heel of his hand hard into his chest keeping Reid down, "stay still." He commanded. Reid knew better than to fight back, it was times like these - with his brain frantically working through statistics of size:mass ratios, power differences and speed accelerations - that he wished he had worked harder at the physical aspects at the Academy. The man took his hand off Reid's chest and pulled out an object from his gilet pocket. It was hard plastic, it partially retained its curved shape with the box sat in the middle, the two metal prongs eager to release its electricity into its next victim. The modern defibrillator can emit up to 360 joules, while electric fencing is a mere 3.2 joules. And that still hurts. The man wouldn't risk having it too high but just enough to inflict enough pain to completely render his victims helpless. Reid froze as the man leaned in and fixed the collar around his neck. When he swallowed Reid could feel the twin tips dig into his skin. 

"Stand up" the man gestured for Reid to get out of the car, he complied in silence. The man then took hold of his shoulder and led Reid to a house. It was a three storey building, the second floor had a narrow, high brick-walled balcony encircling the whole level. In fact the entire building was red brick, it look like one huge cell. One side of the building faced out to the brown river. It was wide an deep here. Two large boats could easily sail on it with room to spare. Reid was pushed towards a single door. Around the brick building were fields and woods. The only path was the one they had driven up. His heart was racing, his mind swirled with memories of Hankel and his previous kidnapping. He remembered who that had turned out. 

Reid was shoved through the door, round numerous corners up a flight of stairs, and past countless identical doors. The man then tightened his grip on Reid's shoulder as they drew up to one door. The man revealed a key from his pocket and opened the door, pushed Reid inside and slammed it shut behind him. 

On the floor lay Stiles. His lay on his left side, knees slightly bent, his left arm around his chest and the right arm lay by his head. He stared listlessly into the distance. Reid scrambled next to Stiles whose glazed eyes hazily followed his movements. 

"Stiles?" Reid's hands hovered over Stiles unsure where he was hurt. It was clear he had been beaten, blood had dried on his upper lip, his breathing was grating, and he wasn't moving even though it was cold in this room. 

"Mm" he mumbled incoherently, Reid wasn't sure if he heard him

"Stiles can you hear me?" Stiles' eyes drifted up towards his face, they were unfocused and empty. Their vitality that once overflowed had evaporated. It was terrifying, Stiles was here but he wasn't here here. Mentally he was floating. Caught between two places: his body and his exhaustion. Suddenly Stiles made a dry painful cough. His eyes squeezed shut and his right hand gripped the air. Searching around Reid spied a water bottle, it was three quarters empty. He grabbed it just as Stiles tensed his muscles and a sharp hiss of air issued from between his teeth. Reid watched as Stiles endured the blast of energy, he knew he couldn't help without endangering himself so he waited two seconds until it had stopped and then approached Stiles again,

"Stiles? Stiles are you ok?" When he got no response, he - trying to be gentle - lifted Stiles' head up onto his lap and then readjusted, ignoring his painful wrist, so Stiles leant against Reid's whole body. Stiles made no effort to fight but he started to suck in deeper, more ragged breaths. Clearly he was in pain. Reid unscrewed the bottle and lifted it to his friend's lips. Stiles sucked in a relief filled breath as the water trickled down his throat. He allowed him a few sips then withdrew it, not wanting to make him sick. 

Stiles blearily looked up at Reid, his head bobbed and swayed as he studied Reid from exhaustion and pain. A small frown creased his forehead. 

"Stiles are you ok?" Redo asked concerned, he felt utterly useless. There were no static this, no books that could even begin to teach you about this. Here he had to rely on himself and his friend who could probably hardly put a cohesive thought together right now. 

"M'fine Scotty" Stiles mumbled. Reid drew back slightly 

"Stiles...I'm not Scott" 

~~~~~~~

Stiles blinked slowly the frown still present, "what?" His tongue felt thick in his mouth, still dry even after the water

"Stiles, it's me Spencer" 

"Spencer?" 

Stiles blinked again and as he looked Scott's face morphed from his dark hair into Reid's mousy brown and his eyes came into focus.

Reid watched as clarity came over Stiles' eyes

"Reid?" He asked tentatively, "how did you get here?" 

"Like you. I was taken" he looked around the cell as he spoke, "where are we?"

"I don't know. Wouldn't pick it for a holiday destination though." Stiles tried to move to sit up but he hissed in pain as his chest erupted with agony. 

"You alright?" 

"No." he tried to not release any air as he spoke to reduce chest movement, "I think, well I know, I have broken ribs, a concussion and most likely internal bleeding."

Reid felt his eyes widen, "how?"

"That man came in an started to beat the crap out of me."

"When?" 

"I don't know. Could've been hours, could've been minutes." Stile paused for breath, "do you know who this guy is?" He shut his eyes as a wave of exhaustion washed over him cooling his body for a fleeting moment. A shudder followed it. 

"No, we were just giving the profile when I went outside an-" Reid suddenly jerked back and Stiles slipped to the side only just catching himself as he fell. Reid gasped behind him, "what was that?" His voice shook from shock

"The collar. You get shocked. That's how he stops you sleeping. Irregularly times shocks. Maximum space is five minutes. Minimum is about ten seconds."

Reid touched his neck gingerly and felt around the ring, "have you had this on ever since you've arrived?" 

Stiles nodded, "yeah" he slowly brought his legs up to his pounding chest and let his knees drop to the side rotating himself round. He next placed his hands on the cold ground and pushed himself up to his knees. He paused breathing hard against exhaustion and pain, Reid stood up next to him and put his hands around his shoulders helping Stile stand. His limbs were stiff from being stuck in one position for a long time. He leaned heavily on Reid as he let him lead himself to the bed. Reid sat Stiles down and wrapped the sheet around his shoulders. 

"Have you heard from Lydia-" Stiles asked

"She is here."

"What?" Stiles looked panicked, "why? She shouldn't be here! She-"

"She's fine. She's with the team. She's helped us find out more stuff in the day she's been here than we have since the start of this investigation."

Stiles tried to smile but couldn't bring himself to. He let his eyes drop to the floor and his mind spaced. 

He blinked suddenly when Reid gently shoved him, "what?" He asked

"I was asking you if you had noted anything since you've been here."

"You did?" Stiles squinted at Reid. The moons soft glow flashing hard against his retinas

"Yeah..." Reid looked concerned at Stiles, his mind then offered up a sliver of information, "after 48 hours without sleep the body starts to have micro-sleeps. They can last between half a second and half a minute. I think that's what you just experienced. Do you remember what just happens on those seven seconds?"

Stiles gave Reid a look, "of course I remember, you asked me...I said..." he trailed off. His eyes went wide with fear, "Spencer what's happening?" Everything hurt, he was more tired than he had ever been in his entire life, fear raced through his veins. Tears welled up in his eyes, "we aren't getting out of here are we?" His voice was small and frail, something easily broken. He felt just like that, like the slightest pressure would shatter him into fragments, unable to be put back together. 

Reid saw these thoughts cross his friends face and took hold of his shoulders, "we will. The team, they'll find-"

Stiles covered Reid's mouth, terror clear in his huge eyes, "don't say that" his hissed. His gaze fixed in Reid, they held a sudden intensity that had been absent before. 

"Why?" Reid whispered through Stiles' fingers, he couldn't tear his eyes away from Stiles' hard stare.

"Last time I said that...that's when he attacked me." Stiles broke the stare and glanced round the room

"How? He wouldn't be outside" Reid muttered, he too swept his eyes over the walls, looking deep into the corners, "he would have to have a microphone or a camera in here." Reid shifted his gaze onto Stiles who was sitting staring vacantly at the wall, Reid shook Stiles' shoulder to rouse him. 

Stiles blinked and brought up a hand to rub his eyes. As he reopened then an intense shock pulsed through his body absorbing his mind for a moment, he grunted as the spasm passed and slumped where he sat. Breathing heavily he let his eyes drift up towards the door. The moon glinted on a tiny shiny sliver of something. It was pretty, it had a smooth surface but it had a rough look about it. It was really quite small, but it glinted in the moon light powerfully. Stiles made to stand up and look closer at it when his chest shot a pang of pain through him. Reid was looking at him, Stiles caught his eye and pointed at the shine. Reid stood up and walked over to the door. 

~~~~~~~

Dale Wallace watched at the new prisoner walked closer and closer to the door. He reached out and brushed his hand over the top of the doors lintel. Dale's heart picked up, he couldn't find it. That would be cheating. The speaker beside him emitted a tinny sound like someone wiping their hand along a plastic bag. It got louder and louder and louder until it screeched as the prisoner touched it. 

Dale was spell bound. Never before had anyone found it. He was stunned and he sat frozen, staring at the screen wondering what to do now. He had to do something. Fast. 

~~~~~~~

Stiles watched as Reid gently picked something up from the door frame. He lowered his hands and opened it to reveal a tiny microphone sitting in his palm.


	15. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun sitting this and the previous chapter, I know they may not be particularly long but the next chapters should make up for that. 
> 
> As ever thank you for your comments, each one makes me smile. It also makes me ant to write more, so I owe this to you!
> 
> Enjoy
> 
> Also please let me know if you spot any errors or typos

At once Reid dropped the tiny object and stamped his foot down hard, crushing it. 

As Stiles watched Reid a thought bubbled up in his mind, "He will be coming now. It wasn't long before he came in last time."

"How long is not long?" Reid asked and looked around the room for any escape route.

"I don't know-" Stiles raised his voice in frustration 

"How long!" Reid yelled

"About a minute!" Stiles replied with equal force, anger sparking in his words

"Ok, good." Reid relaxed, "sorry, force makes you think faster and can yield a-" 

"Ok I get it. Let's start on an escape. He will have left wherever he is by now."

40 seconds. 

Stiles ignored his chest and stood up looking for anything. As he rose Reid staggered, hand snapping to his throat. The metal prints glinted menacingly in the gloomy light. Metal. Why had he never thought of it before? He rushed over to the trash can and ripped out the plastic bag. His kidnapper had changed the bag over since he had thrown up, he had no recollection of this happening which made his mental state even more terrifying. 

He then starting folding the bag in half, and again and again and again, until he had a relatively thick wad of plastic in his hands. He hurried over the Reid, yanked his shock collar out from his neck and neatly slipped the bag between the prongs and his skin. 

15 seconds. 

"What are you doing?" Reid yelped as Stiles released his collar

"When he comes in we both run at him. Knock him over, hit him, whatever. Do you remember the way out?" Stiles demanded a plan formulating him his head

"Y-yes" Reid stammered, his voice swimming with confusion, "why?"

"Cos you're going to run-" the door slammed open and the man towered in the doorway. A snarl was embedded in his face, "NOW!" Stiles yelled and dashed at the man, his heart was racing from adrenaline and sheer fear. Reid followed suit and they both collided with the man. All three crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs and shouts. Stiles scrambled up to his feet and dragged Reid with him, "RUN!" His voice cracked from the stress for his under-used voice. 

"What about you?" Reid yelled

"Just GO!" Stiles waved his arms desperately. The man was slowly getting to his feet, if he had been angry before, he looked down right murderous now. He reached into his pocket and Stiles knew what was coming, he screamed at Reid again and his time shoved him hard to get him going, thankfully he understood and stumbled backwards and broke into a mad sprint. 

Reid reached the corner and looked back for Stiles only to see him still with the man, he was watching Reid. He was sacrificing himself so Reid could escape. The man lifted his hand in his hand sat the plastic box. He pressed the button and Stiles fell to the floor writhing in agony but he still managed to look up at Reid who was unaffected. Again another sacrifice, "GO!" Stiles roared at him.

With tears in his eyes he sprinted down the corridor with the image of Stiles on the floor, eyes bloodshot and wet with tears, hands clutching his shock collar trying fruitlessly to pry it off his neck, bellowing at him to leave. 

Reid didn't stop running as he took turn after turn out of the cursed building. He sobbed as he ran, he felt like a complete coward leaving Stiles behind. The door leading out came into view finally and he crashed into it sending him stumbling out into the moonlight and dark trees. Reid didn't stop. He ran on into the woods. Into the night. Hoping he could still save Stiles. 

~~~~~~~

Reid was past his limit, he felt like he would vomit the moment he stopped running so he pushed himself harder. His legs shuddered with each step, his arms dragged at the air, his throat burned from his ragged breathing but he didn't stop. He needed to save Stiles. Suddenly he had to stop. A crossroads sat in front of him. Heaving in breaths he stared at the two. Which to chose? He had no recollection of this. He must have been unconscious still. He rocked his eyes between the two roads. Neither helped him. There were no signs. He screamed in frustration. Time was slipping through his hands, Stiles could be- stop thinking that. 

"Spencer Reid?" A small voice broke thought his feverish thoughts. 

"Who's there?" He asked, his voice harsh from his fast breathing

Theilia stepped out into the moonlit clearing, her head slightly cocked to one side

"Theilia, oh my God. Thank you." He gasped, relief crashing though him

"What is the matter Spencer Reid?" She looked concerned

"Can you help me get back to the police station?" 

She clearly saw his urgency and nodded, "yes yes. Follow me!"

She spun on her heel and broke into a sprint. Reid followed her as she dashed through the roads and even took shortcuts through the surrounding woods. He trusted her footing and eventually saw a yellow street lamp. He would have laughed out loud if he had any energy to spare. Theilia on the other hand looked as composed as ever, her eyes were bright and her hair whipped around her slender shoulders. The two ran through the town until they reached the precinct. 

"Why were you out there?" Theilia asked as they crashed through the glass entrance doors

Reid was about to answer when Hotch, Rossi, Morgan and JJ all burst out of a door, guns all pointed at him. 

"Spence?" JJ sounded shocked

"He has Stiles" Reid gasped, "in a building by the river, he used a plastic bag to get me out, the man was listening and most likely watching us too. Stiles is hurt, he has a concussion, I probably do too after I was knocked out-"

"Reid" Hotch's voice halted his directionless verbal splurge, "where is Stiles?"

"He's still there" Reid swallowed, "I'm afraid he might be dead...because of me."

Morgan looked at his friend, his eyes were huge and wild, his hair was in disarray like his tie. His shirt was flecked with dirt and had been torn by branches, his trousers were filthy too. Around his neck was a shock collar. Morgan stepped closer and reached out to touch it, but Reid drew back slightly. Morgan paused hands still in mid air

"What is that?" JJ asked squinting in the dim light

"Shock collar" Rossi answered

"We'll help me get it off dammit" Morgan snarled

Reid watched them talk with a strange sensation of floating. His vision stretched and morphed until a silver-grey tunnel surrounded his sight which was reduced to a disc the size of a penny. His limbs felt rubbery. Vaguely he heard someone cry out when he collapsed in a dead faint.


	16. Cognative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right so here is the next instalment! If there are any grammatical, spelling etc errors let me know and I'll change them.
> 
> Thank you so much spfor the comments and kudos, I am perpetually stunned by the reaction this has got. Thank you. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"JJ get his legs" Morgan instructed as he picked up Reid by his shoulders

Together they gently raised Reid onto a couch. His head lolled to the side exposing more black plastic. There was a clip where the shock collar was secured. 

"Are there any scissors?" Morgan asked

"Scissors won't cut that. We need stronger tools" Hotch answered 

"Something like these?" A voice asked. They turned around to see Lydia with a pair of cutters in her hand. Her mascara was slightly smudged under her eyelids. Either she had been crying or a sleep. 

"Perfect" Morgan breathed and took them from her, "could you hold it away from his neck?" She did so and he reached round, slipped one half of the twin metal pieces under the plastic. Morgan then began the arduous task of closing the cutters. Unbearably slowly they broke the plastic. Morgan's arms were shaking from the effort. Finally he had to stop, "that must be reenforced. I can break through that" he had only cut a third of it.

Suddenly Theilia stepped up from behind him, gently pushing him out the way and closed her hands about the handles. Smoothly she brought the edges together. The collar fell off Reid's neck and lay open on the sofas material. Rossi caught Morgans eye and raised an eyebrow. Morgan scowled and looked away. 

Lydia's eyes, however, were locked on Theilia. A girl of her nimble stature shouldn't be able to do that so easily while Morgan had been literally sweating over it. Not if she was human anyways. Theilia must've felt her gaze because she looked up too at Lydia. When their eyes met Theilia slightly drew back. She opened her mouth to speak but Lydia gave her a don't-say-anything look and thankfully she obeyed. 

"Thanks Theilia" JJ quietly said

"Who are you?" Theilia asked Lydia

"Lydia. Lydia Martin." She responded

"I am Theilia" 

Lydia nodded still trying to figure out what she was. 

A soft sound brought all their attention back to Reid who was gradually coming round. He blearily blinked his eyes and looked around, unsure of his surroundings. 

"Reid?" Hotch asked crouching by his teammate, "are you ok?"

Reid squinted through one eye at the others, "yeah I'm fine, I just..." he trailed off as his mind quickly gathered itself up again, "Stiles."

"What about him?" Lydia anxiously asked, a cup of water in her hands.

"We need to go back and find him." Reid swung his legs down onto the floor but he swayed slightly as he sat up so fast, all the blood rushing from his head. 

"You're staying right there." Rossi firmly instructed him, "just tell us what happened." Lydia stepped up from behind and gave Reid the cup, which he gratefully accepted. 

"How did you escape so quickly?" JJ asked, arms crossed and leant against the table. Her eyes raked across her friends shaken frame. 

"How long was I gone?"

"Less than seven hours" 

Reid raised his eyebrows, the journey back had taken an hour at best guess. He had been on foot. In the car that journey would be cut down to about half and hour on that rutted road. He was with Stiles only long enough to have two shocks. He quite literally spent about fifteen minutes in there with him and he already had enough memories than he ever wanted, "the unsub-" he began

"Dale Wallace" Hotch informed him

"Wallace must've driven round the town for hours before we got there." He explained his logic to the others. He sipped at the cool water. Then he was vividly reminded of Stiles parched and alone on that cell, the water burned his throat and he lowered the glass. 

"So this building is on the outskirts of town."

"It was the only one I could see."

JJ called Garcia who blearily answered, "Garcia is awake and ready to find our friends"

"We've already got one back." JJ answered

Garcia's voice perked up instantaneously, "who?"

"Hey Garcia" Reid smiled gently as he spoke 

"Is that my gorgeous genius?!" She cried out, she paused, "but where is Stiles?"

"He's still there" Hotch stepped in to avoid making Reid talk about it, "Garcia can you see if there are any isolated buildings on the outskirts of the town?"

"I shall strap on my binoculars and set searchin' " her hand hovered over the disconnect button, "its good to have you back Reid"

"Thanks Garcia"

She clicked off and Hotch turned back to Reid, "we should do a cognitive in you but I'm not sure how effective to would be seeing you're tired and mentally drained-"

"I'm fine. We should do it" Reid interrupted, not wanting to say that he felt obligated to rescue Stiles asap, instead he said, "my brain is tired, therefore there will be fewer barriers where my subconscious mind tried to block the memories."

Hotch didn't seem best pleased since he sucked in a deep breath and studied Reid, "are you sure?" 

"Yes I am!" Exasperation flung out his words and he looked to the others for help. 

"He seems pretty adamant" Morgan offered, his eyes tracking every movement of Reid. He noticed how he favoured his right hand often cradling his left in his lap, "hey Reid, what did you do to your hand?"

Reid blinked and looked down at it, "when Wallace got me out of his car I tried to hit him with a bottle but he twisted my wrist. I think it's sprained."

"I can have a look at that" Lydia offered, "I used to date a lacrosse player, I know how to strap a wrist up"

~~~~~~~

Reid sat in the sofa: hands in his lap, eyes closed, shoulders relaxed he would look peaceful if his eyes weren't darting around beneath his eyelids frantically. 

JJ sat before him, they agreed her voice would have the most calming effect on Reid, "ok. So you're standing outside the precinct. There is a slight wind, the sun is in your eyes, you can smell the fast food stall near by. What do you do?"

"I look to my left seeing for a vantage point where the unsub could have seen Stiles."

"What next"

"I see Wallace walking to his car."

"What was it about him that looked suspicious?" JJ encouraged

"I don't know. I just had a feeling...I pulled out my phone to call Hotch. But then he asked me to help load his car. We talk..."

"What did he say that made you think"

"He said: you must be here about that guy who had gone missing. When he said that I knew he was the unsub. No one had ever told..." Reid frowned

"What happened then?"

"I...I don't know...it's blurry"

"Ok just take a breath. Let the image come to you"

Reid shifted slightly, "he stops after he said that, I think he realised his mistake. I can't see what he's doing but I needed to tell Hotch...I was about to turn away when he hit me with the bottle" Reid's head twitched slightly as he recalled the event.

"Good, this is great Spencer. What's the next thing you remember?"

"I'm in a trunk. It's dark...not its red. The tail lights are glowing. I don't know...the road is bumpy. I am being thrown around a lot. Then we stop. I try to get one of the bottles by my feet...when he opened the trunk I try to hit him with it but he over powered me"

"Is that when you sprained your wrist?" She asked. He nodded. "Ok what happens next?"

"He put the shock collar on me and got me out of the car."

"What's the view like? What can you see?"

"I see fields straight ahead and woods to my left and behind me. The sun is setting so the sky is orange and yellow, red and pink. The building is large. Three stories with a balcony around it. Around the second floor. It's high and brick. The balcony. He's walking me towards it now. He walks me to the door and pushed me through it" he paused

"Was Stiles there?" JJ asked gently

"Yes" Lydia leaned in from the table, she bit her nails anxious to hear about him, "he's on the floor. There's blood"

"Is it Stiles'?"

Reid nodded again, "his face has small cuts on it but he is holding his chest like it hurts. He had red welts on his arms and face, hand shaped ones. His eyes were open but they were glazed...empty. I ran to him and he was really out of it. He hallucinated I was...Scott?"

"Who is that?" JJ inquired just as Lydia sucked in a sharp breath

She examined, "He's Stiles' childhood friend. They're practically brothers."

"What did you do next, Spence?"

"There was some water on the floor. I gave him some. He's cold but he hasn't seemed to have moved in a while. When I bring him to a sitting position he's breathing hard. He says that he knows he has broken ribs and a concussion. Then...I remember my neck really hurt..."

"Like an electric shock?" JJ asked, following Reid's hand as he subconsciously raised his hand to his neck.

He nodded, "Stiles said they come between 30 seconds and five minutes apart. That's how he stops the victims sleeping. Then we talked but Stiles kept falling into micro-sleeps from the sleep deprivation. But when I told him that you will find us he reacted. He covered my mouth and told me not to talk about you' that's why he beat Stiles up last time. So we went to find a microphone and I found one on top of the door lintel. I broke it. Stiles said we only had about a minute before he came in. So he...there's a bucket in the room with a plastic bag in it. He folded it and stuck it between the pins and my neck"

"An insulatory barrier. It would stop the shock reaching Reid's neck" tears glistens in Lydia's eyes as she explained Stiles' great idea. 

"I asked what Stiles was going to to do but he told me...he told me to just charge at the man. So when Wallace then came in we ran at him and we all fell over." Reid's words was picking up speed as he remembered the following events, they tripped over each other in their haste to be said, his hands fidgeted incessantly in his lap, "Stiles pulled me up and told me to run, so I did. I thought he was coming with me so when I looked back I saw he was still there. He...he sacrificed himself for me. He told me to run again and I ran." Tears tracked down his cheek as he spoke, "I ran out of the building and down the road. But then I got to a crossroads I don't know which way to go, then Theilia found me. You know the rest" Reid opened his eyes but made no effort to wipe away his tears, "we need to find Stiles. He saved me but what if it was at the cost of his own?"

~~~~~~~

Wallace stared at the empty space where Reid had once occupied. His hands trembled with fury, this...wretch in front of him had made him lose a prisoner. He let his eyes drop down to the man on the floor who lay still except for the occasional tremble in his exhausted limbs.

"You ruined it. You've ruined EVERYTHING" Wallace seized the man's shoulders and threw him against the wall, his head collided sharply with the concrete.

Stiles gasped as his vision swam and a white sheet crossed his vision. He brought his hands up to try pry the man's hands off him bit his grip was unbreakable. Stiles whimpered as the vice tightened on his shoulders. 

Wallace brought his face up close to the prisoner and hissed at him, "I'm not going to kill you. I want to, believe me. No. Not yet anyway." He held unwavering eye contact with his game, "do you know how the others died?" He tilted his head slightly, a sadistic grin opening on his face

"No" Stiles voice wavered as he spoke

"I let them go." He smiled, "I told the they could leave. They did. But they hadn't slept in days, they had had no food. Their minds were their prison. The never made it to the entrance. They wandered this building believing they were escaping." A dark chuckle rose from his throat, "I followed them, I haunted their shadow. Then they came to the balcony. They saw a door and sunlight. They dashed towards it believing in their freedom" he released every word he said as his mind flew back to those climactic moments, "they all cried out when they saw their mistake. Stuck on a narrow balcony with only the water as an escape. They all jumped in thinking they could swim. The impact stunned them." He sighed contentedly, "then they drowned." He finished it simply. 

"Why are you telling me this?" Stiles whispered, soft sobs coming through in his words

Wallace felt his face become devoid of any emotion, "because...you're not escaping."


	17. Vacuous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the longest chapter nor the cheeriest. I listened to some sad music while writing this so that may have been a contributing factor...meh
> 
> Also a slight insight on Wallace's back story
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos!
> 
> Enjoy!

Wallace heaved the prisoner off the wall and threw him back into the cell. 

Stiles tumbled to the floor, his energy and adrenaline spent. He rolled back over his shoulders and lay still on the floor. 

Wallace watched him, waiting for him to stand up and run back at him trying to escape and go after his friend. But he just sat up, his pain obvious. 

Stiles raised himself off the floor and waited. For what he didn't know. Another beating? Silence? Death? Everything was pushing him too much. He had no fight left. He wanted to lie down and sleep. Sleep. It called to him. The one thing he craved. More than life itself. 

Wallace was about to leave when he glanced back at his prisoner. His shoulders were rounded, hunched around his knees, hands gently clasping each other. His bare feet next to each other. His forehead was pressed on his knees. When he heard the door open but not close he looked up and his eyes made Wallace draw back. He knew those eyes. They were wide and wet with unshed tears, his hazel irises were swallows up by his huge pupils. He valiantly tried to hide his fear behind a facade of defiance and false strength. Before he could show any more to his observant prisoner he quickly stepped and slammed the door behind him. 

Wallace hurried back to the tech room severely shaken. Images flashed up in his minds eye. They were rushed and disorganised. His brain tried to push them away but those round eyes morphed from the prisoners to his own. 

He then was a child again. Sat in that same position he looked up at the door wishing to open. Praying for his ma to come in and hug him asking why he was crying. He knew it wasn't her fault. Recently she had come back fewer and fewer times, instead the other one had been here. She was mean. She hurt Dale, she hit him and laughed when he cried. He tried to bring his mum back but she only screamed at him that she would never come back. He had sobbed as she threw him around the cramped room. 

His throat clogged as she held him under water, her rippling face distorted from above the surface. Her ghastly smile morphing into indistinct and monstrous shapes. Her arms withstood his attempts to free himself. The rush of water filled his ears and he struggled. Suddenly she was gone. The pressure inexplicably vanished. He felt the liquid cascade down his face, the rivulets tumble back into the main body in the trough. He gasped as he broke through to see, not either of his mums but another women. Her face was white with anxiety, she spoke to him but he couldn't hear her. 

Wallace dragged his eyes open and the same feeling of being heaved through water made him stumble. He remembered everything in vivid detail, but the worst part had been when he had realised his mother had not saved him. His own family would not save him, he had stood by her for years, putting up and enduring her mood swings, her beatings, her love and her hate. All for what? For another person to save him.

It was the same with all the others, no one had come for them. They had all died alone. Family didn't mean anything they would let you die. They didn't care. They didn't save you. 

~~~~~~~

Rossi glanced over at Redo who was asleep on the couch, "so what do we do now?"

Morgan sighed, scratched at the slight stubble on his chin and crossed his arms, "we need to wait for Garcia to confirm for us the precise location, but we go now. We need to get to Stiles as son as we can." He sucked in a deep breath, "by the sounds of it Stiles is drawing very close to the end."

Lydia listened to their conversation and found her hands were trembling slightly. She had tried so hard to be strong, for herself, for Stiles but her resilience was failing her. She stood up and quietly exited the room. She walked down the empty halls of the precinct, soon they would be filled with the chatter of cops. The gloom of night was being redacted with the weak rays of dawn, the sky was streaked with pinks, reds and yellows. She entered the interview room and sat in the chair. She let the tears snake down her face but did not let herself to sob. She tightly shut her eyes and clenched her hands. How are they going to get Stiles back? From what Reid said he was hallucinating, being brutally attacked and loaning control over his mind. Lydia bowed her head and felt more tears fall into her lap. 

The door squeaked open softly. Lydia jumped at the sound, she saw a small delicate hand wrapped around the door. Theilia popped her head around it next, her wide eyes were round and worried.

"Hello Theilia" Lydia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put on a false smile

"Where is Stiles?" Her question sounded like a child. She made no effort to hide her emotions. She bit her lip and wrung her hands, "they talk about him then" she gestured behind her, "where is he?"

Lydia dropped her pretence of calmness and let her false strength fade, "we...don't know, Theilia" her throat tightened and her voice cracked, "we are trying find him now though."

Theilia walked over to the other chair, grabbed it by the back and dragged it round next to Lydia, she sat down on it and looked up at Lydia. She let her eyes relax and her warm silver irises expand until they encompassed her whole eyes. Theilia then took one-off Lydia's hands in both of hers and said, "banshee, you not need to cry." 

Lydia made to wipe away her tears, "I know, it won't get me anywh-"

Theilia frowned at her action, "no no. You not need to cry" when she got the same reaction she huffed, "cry...shout" she tried to get her point across with gestures of her hand sprouting out from her mouth 

Lydia realised then, "scream?" Theilia nodded enthusiastically. Lydia hadn't thought about her scream much recently, everything else seemed to take precedence over it. She and pushed it away, maybe it was denial that something was happening. She turned her through inward and searched for her scream. She felt a hollowness in her chest. It wasn't a scream writhing to be set free but it was still there, waiting. Dormant. "Not yet Theilia. Not yet"

"Good. Then Stiles fine"

Lydia flashed a weak smile at Theilias unbreakable optimism, sadly she didn't feel so confident. 

~~~~~~~

Everyone in the team had felt this. They all knew the feeling, they just didn't realise they would feel it so soon. 

No one said anything about it, it was the elephant in the room but no one wanted to be the first to say it. Instead they sat, stood, paced. All of them were wrapped up in that feeling. 

When Emily had died everyone had felt a hole in their chests. An area devoid of...anything. It stung like an open wound but it was vacuous. Everyone had suffered in their own way. 

When Stiles had come along they knew with time they would heal. What they didn't expect was that exact same feeling to carve them out now. Their chests were cavities. Devoid. Barren. Empty. Hollow. No word can describe that awful feeling of when you lose a person dear to you. It's impossible, just like describing colour to a born blind person. You just can't communicate that. It's when a person leaves an imprint on you and they fill up a part of you, they integrate themselves into your very being and when they're there it fills up some more - full to burst with that person. So when they vanish, they take with them that vitality leaving a dark area once filled with something beautiful and now is cold and desolate.


	18. The Time Approaches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for waiting for another chapter!
> 
> As usual thank you for the comments and kudos, they are fab!
> 
> Enjoy!

Stiles huddled into the corner of the room his eyes dragging through the shadows trying to discern anything from his surroundings. The weak dawn light barely penetrated the perpetual darkness of place. 

His face was dry, as were his eyes. His hands didn't tremble anymore. His chest seemed numb. The shocks still felt terrible but there was difference now. The pain was immediate and engulfing but after he just returned to his previous drifting state. His minds was falling apart. Stiles was breaking. He couldn't take any more. No more fear, no more pain, no more stress waiting for the next attack. 

He felt separated from himself like he was watching from a disembodied...thing. Stiles tried to grasp for a word to describe this thought but his vocabulary became possessive and didn't let him have any words. He giggled slightly at that analogy. He imagined a round pink and green monster trying to hide all the big words from him with a grumpy expression. Another giggle bubbled up on his throat. The sound was unexpected and vastly out of place in this environment. Quickly he shut off that thought and silenced the sound. 

His mind was loosening, becoming lost in itself. This feeling wasn't new. His Lichtenberg figures tingled as his thoughts rewound back. He had that same spacey, caught-in-his-own-consciousness feeling then. When the Nogitsune had stolen his mind. Stiles clenched his eyes closed and pressed his balled up fists into them until bright patterns of vivid colours spun in the darkness. 

"Stiles..." a familiar voice hissed. Stiles snapped his head up blinking away the shapes, his eyes scraping every inch of dawn-glossed concrete wall for the voice, "Stiles..." Stiles pressed himself hard into the wall still desperately trying to seek out the voice, "we are going to die here, Stiles..."

"You can't be back" Stiles whispered, "we killed you"

"Did you? Did you, Stiles? Did we die?"

This time a slight disturbance in the darkness caught his eyes. It was a round shape, curved slightly. The edge had a dull shine to it. 

"You're just in my head" Stiles tried to convince himself, "you're just my mind making you up"

"But I am in your head. I never left your head, Stiles. I never left" the voice grew from a sharp hiss to a stronger snarl and the rounded shape shifted. Stiles watched as it drew back out of the gloomy shadow and stepped into the slightly lighter area, the rounded shape turned out to be a leather clad shoulder and next a pair of booted feet stepped out into the dawn light. Stiles couldn't tear his eyes away from the creature evolving before his eyes. The bomber jacket raised an arm and he saw the bandaged hand lift and reach out at Stiles. Another step. Another. The broad shoulders gave way to a head entombed in cloth. The ancient strips clung to the demons shape, its mouth was the only exposed part. Silver fangs lined its gums, the air hissed around them as the demon breathed. It's blackened lips stretched and it leered at Stiles, "so...we meet again." 

~~~~~~~

Wallace watched the screen, his thoughts drifting back to the past. He had nothing to distract himself from the intrusive thoughts. He considered making the shocks more frequent and intense but by the looks of the prisoner he would most likely die. Even he couldn't distract Wallace from his thoughts, he sat against the wall. Dawn brushed his pale skin. His eyes were empty and glassy, his drifting thoughts entombing him in his head. 

He shifted so his fists were shoved into his eyes. Wallace observed still musing over his mother when the prisoner suddenly whipped his head up, his eyes now alert and searching. Wallace tilted his head and leant forwards in his chair, what was happening in his head now?

He saw the man's mouth move but since he had no microphone (he bitterly cursed his lost prisoner) he couldn't hear what he was saying to himself. His body had tensed: knees locked together, arms tight around his legs, hands clenched into fists. The young man's focus was in the bottom right corner of his screen, Wallace glanced and saw a slight blurry quality on it, it looked like it moved slightly but that is impossible. He frowned and wiped at it but it didn't go. Typical of his computers to get dirty. He pushed back his chair to get the screen cleaner when a little beep told him the prisoner had been shocked. He paused and watched as the prisoner jerked violently against the wall, hand instinctively clawing at his collar. 

However, when Wallace brought the cleaner to wipe away the blur, he noticed it wasn't there anymore. Not thinking anything of it he threw it behind him not seeing Stiles' wide-eyed fear as the demon vanished like chalk dust blown in the breeze. 

~~~~~~~

Lydia re-entered the conference room just as Garcia rang

"You needed my Fountain of Knowledge and I now supply. I have found the building!" She triumphantly announced

JJ went over to Reid who was sleeping on the couch and gently shook him awake, he tensed when he was awoken but when he saw JJ's blue eyes he relaxed, "Garcia has got something" she gently said, he nodded and sat up rubbing his eyes. 

"So I searched for buildings on the outskirts of town and came up with a hefty number, so I reduced the radius to half an hour drive distance. This left me with four. Two were warehouses - too big for Reid's description - another was an abandoned house but not by the river which left only one."

"Did it fit?" Rossi anxiously asked

"Like a glove. Abandoned, brick, by the river. Suitably creepy for me. I've just sent you all the co-ordinates."

"Thanks baby girl" Morgan smiled

"Anything for you, sugar. Also you should know I'm flying out to meet you guys. I don't like being here while my family is being hurt."

Hotch disconnected and turned to Reid, "we are going to go in a minute, how are you feeling" 

Reid gave Hotch a look, "well enough to come with you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. And I can show you where he is. I can't let you save him without me being there."

"How are we going to get there?" Rossi asked, "I mean we can't drive he'd hear us and it's too slow, Wallace probably knows back routes so he could get Stiles out of there. We can't walk, too slow-"

"You could get a boat." Lydia offered. All eyes turned on her, "its faster than both, you can definitely get there and you can arrive without alerting him so much."

Theilia added on, "yes yes! I know river. Water will help us." 

Hotch raised a sceptical eyebrow and Lydia spoke before Theilia could, "she's grown up in that river, she knows it like the back of her hand"

"Are you ok with that, Theilia?" 

She nodded enthusiastically

"Ok good. Let's go find a boat and get Stiles back."

~~~~~~~

Hotch climbed none too gracefully into the boat after everyone else had loaded into it. After calling the sheriff who had let them use the police large speedboat they had driven down to this river and clambered in. Theilia had rolled her eyes when she had seen the boat and muttered under her breath how it would be much quicker to swim. Lydia, having overheard this, whacked her arm with a suppressed smile and whispered how the others couldn't use magical nymph powers to manipulate water. Theilia then conceded but still gave the boat a dirty look. 

"Who knows how to use this?" Morgan asked

Rossi stepped up to the engine and sat by the rudder, "this is when it is beneficial to go fishing." He started the engine and they pulled out of the docks. Their destination waited in their horizon, unseen by any but it was unavoidable. 

Lydia sat at the prow, the dawn breeze whipping her hair so it flew around her hear like fire. She closed her eyes and searched for the scream, she noticed it was much more pronounced than it had been earlier. Her stomach tensed as it gave a lurch and became wild in her chest. It roiled like a caged beast. She brought her eyes open and watched the silky, silty brown water skip underneath the boat, her phone buzzed in her pocket and she brought it out to see Scott's name glowing back at her. She answered it.

"Lydia, where are you?" Scott sounded breathless

"I'm on a boat going to save Stiles. Where are you?"

"I'm at the precinct. No one is he-wait on a boat?"

"Yes. We know where Stiles is being held. We are going there now." Scott didn't reply, "Scott? You there?"

"Yeah, I'm just looking through the files. Jesus Lydia-"

"Don't, Scott." She harshly cut him off as he understood what was at stake, "just don't."

He sighed, "so what do I do now? I can't just stand here while he's there and-"

"Scott. We aren't going to pass by, we are saving him. You can't come here, how will I explain if you show up? Huh? Oh yes this is my friend Scott Mcall. He's not meant to be here but I called him as he's Stiles' friend. Is it ok if we let him on the resource mission? Ignore the claws and fangs" She paused, "you can't come here Scott. I can't jeopardise Stiles' job anymore, I'm not even meant to be here."

"Lydia, I can't just-" 

"You have to, Scott." She glanced back at the others, "I'm sorry but you have to. Just this once" he began to speak but she ended the call before she said anything else. 

As the team sailed down the river, the sun' slight exploded over the horizon blinding them in its brilliance. The river shone and the trees shrouded them in their dappled light. In this idyllic scene Lydia was almost able to forget the scream writhing in her chest. Almost.


	19. Heart of Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this there is going to be a lot of angst/whump/feels etc
> 
> I'm really happy with how this turned out, I've had it in my head for a long time now. I hope it's as dramatic as I intend it to be!
> 
> Also has anyone seen the 'American Assassin' trailer?! Oh my word it looks awesome, for the final bit of this chapter I did think of Stiles as Mitch Rapp a little.
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for the kudos and comments! They're awesome
> 
> Enjoy!

Stiles stayed in his foetal position on the floor long after the demon's ghost vanished. He was shaken. He had known it wasn't real, his mind was warping his thoughts, melding them with memories, dreams and nightmares. 

He was past exhaustion. There was no word for this level of sleep deprivation. His brain was barely able to process the simplest of thoughts, his vision was fractured, his hearing would occasionally cut off leaving him in a terrifying cage of silence. His fingernails were bleeding from him scratching the concrete floor as he sat. The shocks never left him, a constant reminder of his predicament.

His sweatpants were damp from sitting on the floor, his thin tshirt offered little to no resistance to the early morning chill, goosebumps raised the hairs on his arms making his nerves tingle. There was no point in getting the sheet, that would retain no heat whatsoever. The light suddenly spiked from a weak filter of light to a stronger pink-hued glow. He looked up at the window seeing nothing but the paint streaked sky. He watched as the clouds gradually peeled back to let the blue tinge the sky. It would be hot today. 

He heard footsteps. Stiles tensed. The door swung open with a loud squawk, his kidnapper stood in the maw of the doorframe. His feet set in a wide stance, arms hanging loose at his side. He knew he was in control. Stiles made no effort to stand up.

A sudden shock caught him unaware, "-ou listening?" The man's voice cut through his mind as Stiles pushed himself up from the floor where he had collapsed.

"What?" Stiles whispered

"I asked if you were listening." His time was mocking, like a teacher who knew exactly when his student wasn't paying attention.

"Yes, yes I am" Stiles drew back into himself as the man stepped closer. His insides shrivelled as he cowered in the man's shadow. He hated feeling this helpless, this vulnerable. He tried to shuffle away but his ribs and torso made him gasp on pain, clearly not a good option. 

"Do you remember the story I told you? Of the freed ones?" The man leered down at him, his thumb resting on the little black plastic box's grey button.

Stiles nodded, his eyes locked on the button. It would take only a minute force to depress that button and a charge would be sent rushing round his body once again.

"Well, I hope you're a maze runner. It's your time to shine." 

~~~~~~~

Theilia had been standing in the centre of the boat letting the breeze brush her long raven hair. Her river sang to her as she zipped past. She hummed back, it was a constant song that maintained this harmony. She was the river, the river was her. She knew every curve, every shallow, every rapid. She also knew that there was a part she rarely went to, it held a darkness to it. That was where they were headed. Into the heart of darkness. The water was darker there, more silt built up and floated in its wide sluggish water. Few animals lived there, they preferred the swifter, clearer river upstream. 

The darkness was nearing.

Theilia skipped lightly over the box of fishing tackle and scowled at it, who dared to catch her fish. She would break all their fancy sticks wash then downstream. She came up to the banshee but Theilia's eyes were enraptured with her fire hair. It glimmered in the early sun, Helios was starting his journey once more. Her hair looked like his horses' wild manes as they galloped before his chariot. 

Lydia felt someone watching her as turned to see Theilia staring at her long hair, 

"Theilia, you alright?"

Theilia swallowed, she looked suddenly nervous, "no. We near now." Her grey eyes were wide.

JJ then came and joined them, "how you feeling?"

"Fine" Lydia lied, "we are getting close"

"How do you know?" JJ asked

"My phone has a compass that can tell our coordinates, we are getting close." She hurriedly covered up Theilia's supernatural sense of direction

JJ nodded and folded her arms against the chill of the air and her thoughts, "he will be fine." Lydia wasn't sure if JJ was convincing Lydia or herself.

~~~~~~~

Stiles sat frozen on the floor. The man didn't speak for a few seconds waiting for Stiles to react, when he didn't he shouted, "run rabbit! Run!" 

Stiles woke up properly for the first time in about a day and scrabbled to his hands and knees, pushed himself up to his feet and shoved the man aside in his desperation to escape. 

He turned right out the door and skidded to the left as he neared the end off the corridor. Where to next was a mystery. He didn't even know what level he was on. He didn't stop running though. He took every turn as they came. His breaths gasped down this throat and burned his damaged lungs. His mind was a cascade of desperate thoughts as he tried to figure out how to leave this place. Should he go like a maze and stick to the left side? This wasn't a maze, it was a labyrinth. Every corner led to five more hallways. 

His ribs ached, his heart pounded with his sore bare feet, his abdominal region felt like nails were repeatedly stabbing him from the inside, his eyes watered from exhaustion, fear and desperation to flee. He tripped turning one corner and only just caught himself on his hands, grazing the heels of his palms. He heaved in a few much needed breaths when he heard quick footsteps and he remembered when the man had said, "I followed them, I haunted their shadow." The man was the fox and Stiles the mindless hare trying to evade a superior foe. He knew it would only end one way, so he wasn't at all surprised when he saw the thin vertical strip of light leading to the outside. It was tantalising, the door was right there and waiting. However, that outside was wrapped in a high brick wall. His outside was a meter wide strip that surrounded this building. 

The balcony. 

~~~~~~~

Reid stared at the building as they approached it and he nervously fiddled with the Velcro on his vest. It was just like he remembered, lofty and wide. Dark red brick encased it, there were few windows. It made him think of Newgate Gaol from the history books, this is what he imagined it would have looked like. Impenetrable. Inescapable. 

Everyone was silent as they drew nearer, even the water seemed muted, it had thickened with silt and mud that swirled in the clear dawn light. 

Thankfully Rossi had already turned off the engine to be more subtle in their approach. Rossi began to push the rudder to steer the boat towards the river bank when there was a sudden crash. Everyone froze, their hearts unanimously racing. All eyes were locked directly on the balcony. 

Morgan reached to his hip and drew out his pistol. He kept his thumb on the safety and held it loosely in his double handed grip. For a second there was no movement nor sound then footsteps of someone sprinting became audible. Then two pairs of feet; one slapped bare on the ground, the other heavy and booted. Their boat was drifting slowly. Suddenly a head and shoulders sprang into view. Their hair was a disarray, eyes wild and huge, mouth twisted in a pained snarl of extreme effort. Stiles dashed up to the corner and pulled up right in it. He hadn't seen the team yet. He spun round and everyone saw the ginger curly hair of Dale Wallace stalking towards him. Like a lion seeing a lone, injured gazelle, he knew he had won. 

~~~~~~~

Stiles made a mad last ditch effort for freedom and crashed straight through the heavy metal door. He was outside. The sun hit his face and dazzled him, he blinked and leapt to his right rushing to the corner. He knew he couldn't turn right again, he would go in a circle most likely into a dreaded trap of his kidnapper. He pulled up right at the brick corner and spun round to see the man closing the door with a sure finality of a man with all the Aces. 

Stiles pressed his hands behind him on the cool bricks seeking desperately another escape route. He glanced behind him at the river and balked when he saw a police speed boat sitting silently on the water, inside sat his team and Lydia. His heart leapt and then clenched as the footsteps of his impending doom neared. He looked back at the man who was grinning at him, it was a sadistic grin of someone assured in the following actions. His play was in its final act and Stiles was the grand ending. 

Stiles thought fast, the man didn't know about his team - his advantage - but if he jumped now he knew he would not resurface - his disadvantage. But of his team was there - bonus points for him. Just as the man reached out to grab Stiles he reacted. He didn't think, he relied purely on instinct and adrenaline. In the films time always slows and the hero seems to execute some amazing feat of martial arts, somersaulting left right and centre, knocking people out with their pinky toes and then leaping to safety. This is not the movies. Time did not slow down, Stiles saw the hand reaching for him, he then grabbed that wrist tugged it towards him while lashing out with his hand. There was no style, no skill only the frail hope of trying to throw his attacker off. His hand collided right with the man's nose and he felt it push into his skin and then snap under the heel of his palm, Stiles felt a wave of nausea at the sensation but ignored it. He then ran straight at the man pushing him back until the man tripped and tumbled to the floor. Stiles only just managed to catch himself before he too landed on top of him. He would have kicked the man but he had no energy to spare. He needed every last shred for this next part. 

He spun round and broke into a sprint, his arms and legs pumping to force him to go faster. The wall neared him. It grew in size until it swallowed his entire vision. Stiles grunted as he leapt up, gasped the ledge with his hands, swung a leg over and with his ears filled with the furious roar of the man behind him and the terrified screams of his team below he threw himself off the balcony into oblivion.


	20. Supernova

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter speaks for itself
> 
> Thank you for the beautiful comments and kudos!
> 
> Enjoy!

Everyone's throats constricted with undiluted, cold, all encompassing fear. They watched at Stiles leapt off the brick wall and fell. The speed of his fall was extraordinary, he seemed to fly down towards the brown water. 

The scream instantly ignited and like an explosion its flames crashed up Lydia's throat and billowed into her mouth. She couldn't suppress it, it was a living monster. She sucked in a lungful of air and mentally apologised to everyone for what she was about to let lose when a hand clamped over her mouth.

Theilia watched as Stiles fell through the air, arms circling in a futile effort to remain vertical, legs cycling as he plummeted. She saw in the corner of her eye the banshee bend over slightly and she knew what was coming. Theilia spun round and wrapped her hand round Lydia's mouth. She could feel the supernatural scream in her mouth underneath the skin of her palm, using her magic Theilia surrounded it, squeezing the scream into a tiny compact sphere. When Lydia finally made to release the sound, it was restricted to the dense sphere but with the potential of a supernova. The would-be-devastation was contained so the full force of the noise was absorbed by Theilia. Her arm flew back like Lydia had shoved it, the might of the scream shuddered up her arm. Theilia looked over at Lydia who had blood gushing from her nose, the strength of the scream and the contained eruption had been enough to rupture a few blood vessels. 

All of this happened within a moment. Stiles was still falling, Lydia had screamed. That meant one thing. 

~~~~~~~

Stiles felt weightless as he fell. He had no time to shout as the solid water rushed up to meet him. He knew entering the water feet first would meant less impact. But he could feel himself tilting to the side, he desperately tried to return vertical but he still turned. 

He had just enough time to snatch a breath when he collided with the water. 

His right thigh took the brunt of the impact with the rest of that side following suit. The force was enough to knock the small gasp of air from his lungs. The precious bubbles escaped to the surface with the copious others from his crash into the river. 

Stiles still was propelled down deep into the water from his fall. There was a stronger current below the surface than nearer the top. It snatched at his sweatpants tugging him deeper. His tired lungs pleaded for air, Stiles tried to open his eyes but the silt pounded on his eyes making him flinch and instantly shut them again. 

His lungs were convulsing in his chest now, his brain was starting to shut down. Oxygen deprivation made his limbs feel leaden, he tried to fight the current but it was too strong. He stretched out a hand in a vain last attempt to break the surface. 

His feet grazed the bottom of the river, the silt, mud, and small stones whipped across his skin. His nerves were shot, everything felt numbed. 

His lips lost their strength and the last few tiny bubbles floated up to the surface. 

~~~~~~~

Reid rushed to the edge of the boat as Stiles crashed under the lapping waves. His eyes desperately sought out any sign of him resurfacing, when only bubbles came up and the water smoothed back over he choked on his breath. Everyone else was watching too, no one knew what to do right then. They were shocked, too stunned to move at all. 

Theilia was the first one to react, she broke her hold of Lydia and in one smooth bound, placed a foot on the lip of the boat and dived in. She couldn't see at all in the water, after she slid her protective extra clear eyelid over her eye she let her irises expand to try sharpen her sight but the filth was so clogged in the water that she still could barely see anything. She dug through the river calling on the water to help find Stiles. A current pushed her towards him, she extended her arms for another stroke forwards when her hands brushed something solid. She gripped it and pulled. She could feel she was grasping Stiles' wrist. But he made no effort to regrip hers. She sang to the water and again and it pushed her quickly to the surface, she broke the river's surface and brought Stiles' head to the air too. His eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly open. 

She rotated so she was on her back and rolled Stiles over onto his back and began to swim to the boat ensuring his mouth and nose stayed above the water and that his throat was clear. She reached up to the rope that was secured around the boats rim and heaved Stiles up.

Morgan and Hotch watched spellbound as Theilia resurfaced with Stiles in her arms, when she approached the boat they rushed over to her and helped drag Stiles' limp form over the side of the boat. She lithely climbed back onto the boat, dropped down next to Stiles and rested her ear on his chest. 

"He's not breathing" she muttered and started to rhythmically compress on Stiles' chest. She could feel the water trapped in his lungs and she called on it to move, she begged for it to leave. She moved from chest and covered his mouth with hers, she sang the water up from his lungs into her mouth, the cold, murky water filled her mouth and bringing her mouth away she spat it onto the ground, sensing there were still dregs she repeated the action. Finally Stiles had no more water in his lungs but he still wasn't breathing. She tried real mouth to mouth and returned to CPR.

The heels of her hands pressed into his chest in a vague attempt to mimic his heartbeat. The others stood back as she knew what she was doing. Best not to get in her way. Theilia felt her attempts were proving fruitless, Stiles was still and his head lolled to the side as she continued to pump on his chest. She moved back for mouth to mouth and breathed into his lungs much needed air and in a flash of ingenuity summoned up the power of the scream she had silenced. It rushed up her throat and passed into Stiles. Its pent up energy, restless to be released, flushed through his entire body making his muscles twitch simultaneously. As she pulled back he shuddered in a gasp of air and coughed at the ghost of the water in his lungs. Then his abdominal muscles rippled as they contracted under his sodden tshirt and she only just got him on his side in time when Stiles vomited up more river water he had swallowed. However, he didn't come back to consciousness, his eyes remained closed and his body loose. 

Rossi hurried back to the engine and it spluttered back to life with a frightening similarity to Stiles. Just as he was about to pull away Morgan glanced up to see a flash of red hair poking above the brick wall, he had no hesitation. He smoothly raised his gun and aimed at Wallace. He had caught sight of Morgan aiming at him and he stood up just as Morgan fired. His bullet punctured his left shoulder and sent him cursing the to the floor. 

The gunshot made all the birds in the area leap to flight chittering in fear. The fluttering filled the morning air. 

Rossi didn't like taking risks, he steered the boat over to the back and Morgan understood his intentions. He hopped out of the boat and scrambled up the short grassy slope, JJ leapt out too, her blue eye glittering and alert. 

"Go! He won't be going any where fast." Morgan watched as Rossi drove the boat down the river, water arcing out behind the engine as they sped down the water. He and JJ turned to face the building and jogged towards it, Morgan knew Wallace would be on the second floor, he had hit him solidly in his shoulder, possibly nicking a rib. Right now he wasn't feeling too sympathetic. Morgan and JJ hurried up a narrow concrete flight of stairs but nearly dashed headlong into a metal wall. Were these false stairs? They were about to turn back when Morgan felt a cool breeze on the back of his neck, "JJ, hold on." He turned round and experimentally pushed on the obstruction. The wall shifted with a deep groan. It was heavy and Morgan strained at it. Finally he had moved enough that he could slip through. JJ slipped through after, her pistol was out and aiming down the hall. He looked back at the false wall and saw it was meant to hide the stairways out of the building. Ensuring his captives would be unable to escape. 

Morgan snarled and began his hunt for Wallace. Now he was the bloodthirsty predator who was searching for his prey. The balcony was not hard to find. He simply followed the fresh air. As they neared JJ heard a sound of something dragging along a rough surface and grunts. Wallace had managed to get off the balcony and was sliding himself along the wall to try escape. 

JJ and Morgan stood in the middle of the corridor hands wrapped around pistols which were pointed directly at Wallace, "y'know" Wallace jumped and yelled as the slug in his lower shoulder shifted slightly, he clearly had don't heard their arrival, "I could kill you so easily right now. A simple pull on this trigger and boom. You're finished." Wallace's eyes seemed to lighten up slightly when he said that, clearly he wanted to die. He converted his misery into the torture of other people. Innocent people. "No. I won't let you off that easy." Morgan snarled and grabbed Wallace by his injured shoulder getting a grim pleasure from the man's yell of pain, "why are you complaining? Think about all the people you killed, that's pain." He viciously pulled Wallace's hands behind his back and tightly cuffed him. Morgan then lead him down the stairs to his car. JJ followed, her gun still trained Wallace. Morgan shoved him in the back seat and JJ went shotgun, her eye never leaving Wallace. He looked broken now, he had lost everything. Morgan sat in the drivers seat, leant below the steering wheel and jump started the vehicle. 

~~~~~~~

Rossi pushed the boat to its maximum, he occasionally glanced at Stiles who was pale and motionless on the ground. The four others were clustered around him trying to help Stiles breathe, tend to his injures and wake him up. 

Lydia sat by his head, her hand on his wet hair and she dug out her phone. She sniffed and wiped away her tears as she waited for him to pick up:

"Scott"

"I'm here what-"

"Call an ambulance to the river docks. Do it now" she hung up and went back to tending Stiles. She glanced up at Theilia was who looking a little shaken and pale, "Theilia, you ok?" 

The nymph looked up at Lydia, "I feel strange"

Lydia guessed she had used a lot of energy resuscitating Stiles - both physical and magical - leaving her drained and most likely light headed, "sit down and rest. You've done a fantastic job"

Theilia brought her eyebrows together to express her grateful surprise, "really?"

"Yes, now rest" Lydia tried to smile but only managed to give a slightly panicked look

Theilia nodded and slumped back against a cooler. Her eyelids drooped slightly. Using her magic had drained her more than she thought. Reviving a human required more effort than a dying fish. 

The speed boat skipped over the river, soon the docks were in sight. Red and blue flashing lights illuminated the water, small figures which rapidly got larger scattered the shore. Among them would be Scott. Lydia brought her fear close to Stiles and whispered, "you can make it, Stiles. Hold on for a bit longer. Please, I can't lose you. Please hold on. You've done so well, don't let go. Don't. Let. Go."


	21. The Drive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this chapter is a bit rubbish, I feel a little anticlimactic after the previous on so apologies if this seems lacking. 
> 
> Your Kudos and comments are as ever beautiful!
> 
> This hasn't been rigorously checked for errors so if there are any mistakes please let me know
> 
> Enjoy!

Scott watched the boat rapidly approach before the driver killed the engine and it quickly drifted over it the docks. Scott ran over and grabbed the rope a young man threw at him and Scott heaved the boat in. He could see Lydia crouched on the floor of the boat, dark streaks of tears wound down her cheeks, his heart jumped as he realised she was kneeling next to Stiles. He gritted his teeth together and strained harder against the pull of the boat in the water. 

He stepped back as the two older man stepped up next to Lydia, reached down and picked Stiles gently off the floor. 

Hotch glanced over at Reid whose eyes were fixed on Stiles' limp form, Rossi adjusted his grip on his teammates legs and passed them to Hotch who carried Stiles off the boat bridal style. His head was leant against Hotch's shoulder, eyes closed. His right arm slipped from where it rested on his stomach and swayed as Hotch hurried over to the ambulance. 

Lydia reached out and took hold of Scott's outstretched hand as she stepped off the boat and wrapped her arms around her friends neck sobbing into the crook of his neck. Scott kept his eyes on Stiles, his arms tightly embracing Lydia, as the man gently laid Stiles down on the stretcher. Paramedics swarmed like flies around Stiles, covering his face with an oxygen mask, pushing an IV up into the crook of his arm, and lifting him up into the belly of the ambulance. 

Reid saw Lydia with a man who had dark hair, wide eyes and a crooked jaw. He guessed that was Scott. He didn't hang around instead he hurried over to the ambulance to hear the paramedics flinging information to each other, 

"Severely dehydrated-"

"Sixth, seventh and eighth ribs definitely broken, ninth possibly fractured-"

"Lungs intact-"

"Major internal bleeding-"

All the words swum around Reid's head making him nauseous, he stood next to Hotch who looked down at his teammate and saw how pale and unsteady Reid was, "hey" he caught the attention of a paramedic, "so you have room for him too?"

The woman looked unsure but Hotch pushed, "he was with Stiles, he has a concussion and a sprained wrist."

The woman caved and hurriedly replied, "yes but only him. Hurry."

Reid shot Hotch a grateful look and clambered in behind the woman. The doors were slammed closed and Reid looked back through the panes of glass at Hotch and Rossi who stood shoulder to shoulder watching the ambulance pull out of the dock and Lydia still in the strange man's arms. All of them had the same expression on their faces, desperation mixed with exhausting fear. 

~~~~~~~

There were four people crammed into the ambulance, two EMTs and two patients. One in much worse condition than the other. Mary Hertford glanced at her teammate, Ross Berkley, who was working efficiently on the unconscious agent. Mary then moved closer to the wide eyed man who sat against the walls his gaze vacant and he swayed with the vehicle. 

"Hey" she crouched in front of the young man, "what's your name?" He didn't respond his gaze still fixed on the opposite wall, Mary touched his hand trying a different stimulus to get a response. Still nothing so she gently pressed her fingernail into his nail bed. He jerked his hand back slightly and finally looked down at her, "hey are you ok?"

He stared at her for a few seconds, "...yeah" he muttered vaguely. She knew he had quiet a bad concussion, he was very pale and his hands shook slightly in his lap. His head injury mixed with shock would make him more susceptible to the symptoms. She stood up, leaned over and grabbed an ice pack. She then began gently pressing at areas on the agents head trying to find where his injury was. He winced when she touched the left side of his head and she put the ice pack in his hand and directed where to hold it. He nodded and she watched his eyes drift back to his friend, "will he be ok?" 

Mary caught Ross's eye whose expression told her it wasn't good, she turned back to her patient and forced a smile on her face, "he will be fine, hun. You keep that ice pack there and don't move too much. If you feel sick let me know. Ok? My name's Mary" He nodded mutely, "great" she stood up and came up next to Ross and asked softly, "what's happened?"

Ross didn't speak, he just lifted up the man's wet tshirt. His torso was covered by a large solid purple bruise. It was a deep purple, "ecchymosis" she clarified. Internal bleeding which had seeped into his skin and soft tissues. Since they didn't know how long it had been there it made their situation all more perilous. The purpura covered all the way from his pelvis to the base of his rib cage, it was about level with the floating ribs. Her stomach clenched at the severity of his wound. There was also three, maybe four, broken ribs, a minor stress fracture on his collar bone and multiple head injuries. That was what they could see. There would undoubtably be more but they could not do anything more than ensure he stayed stable. Ross had cleaned and applied a few bandages over various small open wounds but most was under his skin. Mary checked his IV, he was desperately in need of water. She glanced over at his blood pressure and saw it was 70/50 already too low for his state. 

She needed the driver to go faster, she banged on the partition and yelled for him to get a move on. 

"Mary" the other man said very softly, she hurried over

"Are you feeling ok?" 

"Yeah. Will he be ok?"

Mary frowned, "you just asked me that"

"You did?" His eyes grew round and worry, "when?"

"Just now" she felt his forehead and felt he was very warm, the cool water from the ice pack mixed with the sweat in his forehead, "you're hot. Very hot. What's your name honey?"

"Spencer" he had tears swimming in his eyes, another symptom: unstable emotions. 

"Ok Spencer, you've got a bit of a fever." She grabbed a bottle of water and pressed it onto his hands, "try and drink as much of this as you can, it will help. Sit still and don't move to much. Can you do that for me?" 

Spencer nodded and slowly undid the plastic cap.

~~~~~~~

Lydia watched the ambulance drive away with tears still on her eyelashes. She hiccuped another breath and clenched her fist in the fabric of Scott's shirt. He held her around her shoulders with his eyes fixed on the ambulance as it turned a corner and vanished. 

"Who are you?" Hotch was striding up to Scott. 

Lydia interjected, "this is Scott-"

"Why is he here" 

"I called him" she could see Hotch was going to speak so she hurried on, "I knew he was in the area so I called him as we were coming here. I knew he could call 911 faster because I didn't have good service on the boat. I wanted to know that they were going to be here..." she trailed off under Hotch's scrutiny 

"Lydia..." he sighed and rubbed his eyes, "Lydia, I know you care for Stiles. We all do but you can't just bring people into this. It's not how we work, when you were back home maybe but out here, it's our job. We have to be professional about this." He turned to Scott, "I'm not saying I'm ungrateful for what you did" he faced Lydia again, "but you're not even meant to be here. I know I sound cruel but the harsh reality is that you are not meant to work alongside us." He paused seeing Lydia cling to Scott, "I am truly sorry, I really am but we can't have any more people involved in this case. We already have too many people involved as it is." He looked over at Theilia who was sitting facing out to the water, her hand casually dipped in the river. 

He was about to resume his speech when his phone buzzed, he stepped back and answered, "Hotchner" 

"Hotch, we got him" Morgans voice had a slight static to it through the speaker, "we are driving back to the precinct. Where should we meet you?"

"Meet us at the hospital."

"How is Stiles?"

"We don't know but it wasn't looking good."

Morgan swore down the line and after a pause he replied, "ok we will meet you there. See you in a bit" he ended the call. Hotch brought his phone down to his jacket pocket and slipped it back in. 

~~~~~~~

Morgan pressed harder on the gas pedal shooting the car forwards, JJ glanced over at him slightly worried. His face was showing his deep rooted fury. He was always one to react when someone on their team was hurt. He tried to hide it but he had a very expressive face. His mouth was a thin line and knuckles were white in their grip around the steering wheel. 

"Derek-" she began

"I can't, JJ" he cut in, "I can't. No so soon after Emily..." his voice caught in his throat, JJ knew he still felt guilty about Emily's 'death'. He was the one who pressed on the wound to try keep her alive, he was the one who spoke to her to keep her awake. If Stiles died Morgan would not be able to cope. 

Stiles had only just joined but he was an integral member of their family. If he was lost, who knew what would happen. JJ sucked in a shuddery breath and gripped tighter on the handle above the door as Morgan sped round corners. She didn't try to talk to him until they pulled up at the precinct. Morgan leapt out and yanked the back seat door open. Wallace flinched at Morgan's open aggression but didn't fight when he was pulled out of the car. 

Morgan stormed through the precinct until he came to the cells. He shoved Wallace in and slammed the door, "this is better than you deserve" he snarled at the cowering man. He then crashed back out through the doors to see Garcia standing with JJ. 

"Garcia? How-" he began

"Plane. Let's go" she had been crying, her eyes were red and blotchy but she bustled to the car and Morgan needed no further instructions. The car pulled out of the precinct and sped off down the road towards the hospital. 

~~~~~~~

Turning to Rossi Hotch said, "we should be heading to the hospital" he looked back at Lydia and the other man and asked him, "how did you get here? Drive?"

He looked sheepish, "no, I ran"

"From the precinct?" Rossi asked incredulous 

He nodded, "yeah...I have a car-" 

"We have two cars it doesn't matter" Hotch interrupted with a shake of his head, "follow Rossi and me." 

Scott caught the keys thrown to him and led Lydia over to the vehicle. However, Lydia twisted back and called out to the other girl who hopped up and scampered after them. 

After she closed the door in the car she leaned in from the back seat and said, "werewolf." 

Scott raised an eyebrow and breathed in the girls scent. It was strange, she smelt of water if water can have a smell. She smelled of damp grass, rain and...life. It was the only way to describe it, "what are you?" He started the engine and pulled out of the parking space

"She's a Water Nymph" Lydia answered, her voice distant, "her name is Theilia."

Theilia smiled, "you are alpha."

"Yes."

She seemed satisfied with that answer and sat back in the seat. The three were silent as Scott followed the car in front of them. He had the sirens screeching in his ears, in any other situation he would be thrilled but now he was filled with a grim determination to reach the hospital and find out what happened to Stiles. He had to make it, if he didn't...he couldn't face that option. 

The two cars sped through the empty early morning roads, blues and twos blaring in the quiet streets. No one spoke for the rest of the journey. 

The silence was swollen in both cars, it pushed at the windows, clawed at the doors. It wanted to escape but it followed the team, it had never left but was never heard. 

The silence pressed on everyone's eardrums until they ached. It made their tears fall down their cheeks. Made their minds spin. Made their hearts beat as one.


	22. Theories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lastest update! Next chapter is going to be much more Stiles-centric (not that this isn't but you get what I mean) 
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos they mean the world to me
> 
> Enjoy!

Mary pressed down hard on the wound trying desperately to stop the blood that was oozing from the wound. Ross had snatched up bandages and was trying to apply them while the ambulance sped on. 

The unconscious man was wearing sweatpants which were drenched. The grey material had been throughly soaked turning it a deep colour. It was only when it had dried that Ross noticed the dark stain that had not evaporated. As he cut away at the fabric he had called for Mary to apply pressure. A deep, short gash slid along his quadricep femoris muscle, namely in the vastus lateralis. Numerous capillaries had been ripped but thankfully the major vessels were deep enough that they were intact. However, after exposure to the river water it had a high risk of becoming septic. 

Ross quickly rinsed the wound with a saline solution as Mary pressed down hard around it to restrict blood flow. Gently she raised his leg so Ross could wrap a bandage round his lower thigh ensuring a gauze pad was secured over the wound. His blood quickly showed through the white material but thankfully they were near the hospital. 

Reid watched from the corner of the ambulance, his concussion left him spacey and thus merely observed rather than allow his thoughts to run riot in his head. He watched as the two paramedics reacted very quickly to Stiles' wound and fall back when the job was completed. Reid sipped the water and was starting to feel slightly better. Maybe it was the placebo effect, he wanted to feel better so his mind was manipulating his thoughts. The sirens were grating on his sensitive ears, the incessant wail was making him curl inwards. He felt the slight jolt as brakes were being applied and the ambulance slowed down. They must be at the hospital. Mary approached him and started speaking, Reid forced himself to focus on her words:

"-ere now, when the doors open you get out first and wait there. Someone will bring you in ok?" 

Reid nodded and secured the plastic lid back on the bottle neck. He looked at Stiles. His face was mostly covered by the oxygen mask with a hard plastic pump to the side which the male paramedic was now squeezed hard pushing air into Stiles' lungs. His feet were lax and tilted apart from each other as his body was held in the straps securing him to the stretcher. His arms were pale and freckled with scrapes and bruises, injures also were scattered over his head but steri-strips had been applied to try keep them closed. Reid felt a clench of guilt in his gut as he looked on his friends still form, maybe if he had not run away Stiles wouldn't be so badly injured. But then again, the team wouldn't have known where to find them, they would still be with Wallace and the most likely outcome would be that they both died. But Reid had left him. His mind spun with what-ifs as the doors were pulled open and sunlight streamed into the ambulance. 

Reid squinted as he stepped out onto the asphalt that led to the emergency entrance. A clatter brought his attention back to Stiles who was being lowered onto the ground by numerous medics. 

The woman, Mary, was speaking rapidly to the new people. She reeled off blood pressure, injuries and numbers too fast for his brain to understand. He stood still, the water bottle loose in his hand as they pushed Stiles away from him and into the sterile halls of the hospital. 

~~~~~~~

Lydia watched the town fly past her window as they rushed towards the hospital, her thoughts spinning just as fast, her mind replayed the fall over and over again. She couldn't un-see how Stiles had crumpled as he hit the water, the shattering crash of impact. Her musings suddenly sparked a question.

"Theilia, what did you do on the boat?" The nymph looked a little confused so Lydia jogged her memory, "you did something to my scream"

"You screamed?" Scott asked flicking his gaze over to Lydia

Lydia nodded and turned back to Theilia who was thinking. 

"I cover your mouth with my hand. I know your scream cause badness. Big..." she waved her arms in a big circling motion and puffed out her cheeks making a soft explosion sound, "so I make it small. It went whoosh up my arm!" She gestured the screams power moving up her arm and into her chest, "I feel it. Here" she poked the centre of her chest right where Lydia always senses her screams, "it was...hard. And hot. When I..." once again lost for words she waved them enigmatically in a vague motion paused for a thought, "when I help Stiles I use that to bring him alive."

"If you compressed my scream it would still have the same potential. It would just be under much more stress, the energy would be forced into a smaller area making the eventual explosion more devastating." Lydia worked out, "how did you contain that amount of energy? That scream was huge, I could feel it in my chest. If I had screamed...who knows what would've happened." 

"Bad" Theilia answered flatly 

"Bad" Scott shook his head with a snort of humourless mirth, "more like blow your ears out terrible. I'm just glad Theilia could stop it, how would you have explained that to the team. I mean there's projection and then there's that." His vague attempt at humour evaporated in the dry atmosphere. 

"Hang on." Lydia suddenly spoke again, "you said you used the scream to revive Stiles?"

"Re...vive?" Theilia repeated, a ghost of confusion on her pixie face

"Bring back to life" Lydia supplied

"Yes yes"

"But my screams indicate imminent death...how could you bring someone back to life with a symbol of death?"

"Nymphs are embodiments of nature. Right?" Scott defined and looked at Theilia in the rear-view mirror for clarification. Theilia nodded, "nature is made up of living things. It is a web of life, therefore nymphs are representations of life. Their magic comes from life. Maybe you were somehow able to reverse the magic of Lydia's scream and manipulate it into a life giving source rather than one that take it away?" Scott heaved in a deep breath after his explanation. 

Lydia looked on stunned, "that was amazing, Scott. Did you just think of that?"

"Uh-huh" pride welled up in Scott's chest, normally he was the stunned one. 

"If you think about it it does make sense. It could also explain why you were so tired afterwards, Theilia."

The young woman raised her eyebrows, her expression unaware and vague. She had no idea what had just been theorised. The speed of Scott's talking and the complexity of the words had flown over the nymphs head. Lydia smiled at her and got the most important thing across, "you did really good out there. Thank you."

Theilia then frowned, "I did what I was told."

"What do you mean?"

"Stiles tell me"

"What? when?"

"Did you communicate with him when he wasn't breathing?" Scott asked

"Don't be ridiculous, Scott" Lydia gave him a withering look

"Outside the stone and glass house"

"The precinct?"

"Yes yes. He said I could have saved someone's life when I help tell about the sleeping people. Stiles needed saving, so I save someone's life." she seems satisfied with her explanation and smiled her child's smile. 

~~~~~~~

The hospital curved into sight as the two black sedans pulled round the last corner and pulled up behind the ambulance. A security guard jogged up to their cars but Hotch flashed his badge at them and he receded. Scott, Lydia, and Theilia climbed out of the second car. 

Rossi had got a text from JJ only a couple of minutes ago saying they were five minutes out. Hotch glanced around for anyone and saw Reid being led to the double door emergency entrance by a medic. He signalled to the others to follow and jogged up behind them,

"Reid" the young agent jumped at the sound of Hotch's voice and spun round too quickly, he staggered into the medics arms.

"Sir, he needs medical attention" the man had a nasally voice and bit off the ends of his words, "he has a bad concussion and needs to rest." He then led Reid away at a brisk pace

"May want to announce your presence next time, try not to make them hate us being here." Rossi offered as he strode up next to Hotch. 

Hotch grunted and followed the sharp medic who had led Reid into the building. The five people entered the hospital and hurried over to the reception desk, "excuse me"

"Better" Rossi muttered with a slight grin, Hotch threw his friend a mock dirty look and pressed on:

"We are with-"

The nurse at the desk interrupted him with a held up hand, "The young one is in the OR. The other is in room 4. Down the hall and take the second door on the right."

Hotch went to thank her but she had already refocused on her paperwork. 

As one the group moved away from the desk and proceeded down the corridor. 

Hotch was the only one to first enter the room. He didn't want to overwhelm Reid nor annoy any staff who were there. Reid was being tended to by a short, portly older nurse, her hands deftly applying a bandage around his head as he sat on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling in the air and hands folded in his lap. 

Hotch didn't say anything as he watched, it is these times that he really sees just how young Reid is. Barely a mature adult and he has already seen more horrors than anyone should see in their entire lives. Hotch coughed and the nurse smiled when she saw him, "all finished here." She put her tweezers and extra gauze in a pot and picked it up, she also watched as Reid laid down in the bed ensured he was alright. She walked up to Hotch - though she only just reached his mid-upper arm - and said, "he will be fine. He had a nasty cut in his head but that'll clear up nice. He just needs rest now. He will have a headache but that's the worst."

"Thank you"

"No worries" she bustled out the room and closed the door behind her. 

Hotch turned back to Reid to talk to him but he saw he was fast asleep. His hair hung down over the bandage that was wrapped around his head, it looked almost comic. His breaths were slow and steady, his arm had flopped out over the lip of the bed and his fingers were loose. Just as he would with Jack, Aaron placed his wayward arm over his torso and pulled the sheet up a little higher. He watched his friend sleep for a moment longer then left the room switching off the light as he closed the door.


	23. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know why this chapter started off the way it does. It seemed strange to me to use colours as a character almost, but somehow in an odd little way I guess it works?
> 
> I had so much fun researching for this chapter though, sorry if I go into a bit of detail about some stuff I got a little excited about some aspects
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos, I am so happy so many of you are reading and enjoying it!
> 
> Also I go back to school on Tuesday so my updates won't be daily but I shall still try to update as much as I can
> 
> Enjoy!

The room was very cold. The air was warm but the colours were cold. Blues and whites. The harsh white tiled walls, brilliant white light blasting from the powerful overhead lamps, the turquoise of the surgeon's sterilised gowns, the expanse of blue over the table. The harsh glint of silver metal in the metallic kidney-shaped bowl.

One colour was out of place. It crawled everywhere, it stained whatever it touched. It curled around the fingers of the white gloves, was wiped over the blue sheet. It leaked onto every screen in the cold room. Red. It contaminated the sanitised blue, infected the sterile white. It wouldn't stop gushing. It came from everywhere. The tips of his fingers where nail had been torn off, it trickled from the numerous gashes on his face, oozed thickly from his thigh. But it swam in his abdomen. The red was so red it was almost black from all the redness. So much red. It seemed to loose all meaning, it became an abstract form, a hostile one though. It needed to be returned back to where it is mean to be. All that red. 

It never kept its shape, it twisted from one form into another, it was indecisive, it slithered over and under obstructions. Red was impatient to move. It was meant to move. Meant to run, now it was lost and was angry to get back on its cyclic journey. 

Deep in the red depths there was a tear. The surgeon had clamped down on the hepatoduodenal ligament stopping any more from escaping. There was too much already. All this red. So much if it. 

Words were softly spoken as if they were afraid to awaken the sleeping man. The red was silent too, it made no sound as it shifted. It felt the probing hands and sharp points glide though it's ever changing shape. The tissue had torn letting all the red loose. So much red. 

 

The surgeon had cut off the blood supply from the hepatic artery and portal vein but the wasn't enough. Blood had been escaping for a long time now. Life threatening levels of blood. The patient had been dehydrated for a long period of time leaving his blood thicker and more viscous than was normal. 

There a large vessel that had been torn revealing a hole. Blood had been coming from there but now the blood had been restricted and clamped off. He called for a suture and started to gently stitch the vessel back together. This was always a tense moment, one small slip and he could loose the patient. One tiny trip of his fingers and the vessel would tear more allowing blood to flow freely out of his system. 

Finally he stepped back and took in a deep breath before bending back down and continued to repair the young mans liver. All the excess blood had been removed from his abdomen, however, it was still too thick, even with the IV there was just not enough water in his blood. The Trauma Triad of Death came into his head: coagulopathy, acidosis, and hypothermia. The patient had been close to hypothermia but due to his dehydration there was no risk of coagulopathy - if anything his blood was more at risk of clotting. Taking a steadying breath the surgeon sewed up the incision in his abdomen began to focus on the less severe wounds. His mind was spinning, his heart was racing, but his hands were steady. 

~~~~~~~

The waiting room had twenty three chairs. An annoying number. A prime number. Indivisible by anything but itself. All the chairs were the same: arms rests that were slightly too low to be comfortable, backs that dig into your own when you rested in them, wobbly legs that were unequal making you tip with every breath you took. There was also a vending machine. It had chocolate bars, soda and crisps. Most were empty and the ones that had food in were prone not work. The water fountain always grumbled loudly after it was used, but the water was cold which was good. Every ten minutes the light above the entrance would flicker. The walls were off white, the floor the same colour. 

That seemed to be everything noticeable in the lobby. Lydia had noted everything. She sat waiting, staring at these regular issues, setting her time by them. She observed people as they went up the vending machine and got annoyed when it stole their money and gave them nothing in return. Or how after people drank from the fountain they would start at the deep noise from the plumbing thinking they had broken it. Some stayed to make sure it was fine, other hurried away. Nurses marched to and fro along the corridor that spread out its limbs in both directions. They all walked with purpose, no one dithered in a corner waiting for their next mission, they strode around with clipboards tight to their chests and little name tags flashing. 

She also studied their faces, some would walk past with a blank expression of regular duty, checking up on patients, tending to their needs. Others had a brisk gait and held their chins up high, delivering bright and cheerful news to worried family members. But there seemed to be a surplus of grave faced nurses, shuffling toward the clench of relatives waiting to hear good news. None came. The occasional shout of denial was heard, the heart wrenching, broken yell of a person who had lost everything. Whenever this happened Lydia's guts twisted with guilt, it wasn't her fault but she sat here waiting for news. She hoped for good news, that hope is what sustained her. They had lost that hope, they knew the dreadful reality of their predicament. It was inescapable. Ignorance is bliss. 

The agents, Lydia, Scott and Theilia all sat in a huddle set slightly apart from the other awaiting people. Lydia let her mind drift as her eyes washed over her view, the clockwork rituals, the constant working pace, the occasional pause on motion to pick something up or drop it off. It was a train station. 

The last time she had been in a train station it was filled with forgotten people. Rooms full of lost souls who were stolen from reality and thrust in a limbo. 

She dropped her head into her hands and scraped her fingers through her hair pushing through the tangles. Pushing away those memories. 

"You ok?" Scott tentatively asked knowing it was a silly question but the silence had built up into a solid mass. It demanded attention. 

"No." she replied, there was no need to lie. Her gaze was still downward on her interwoven hands

"I was just thinking, should we tell his dad?"

Lydia glanced at Scott, his eyes were red and bloodshot. She hadn't thought about calling Noah. After everything that had happened it never once crossed her mind. It seemed the most logical thing to do, but then again he would not be able to get out here with his work and getting a flight, driving to the hospital. If they told him and he couldn't get here he would panic at the thought of his son being severely injured in a different state unreachable and alone. But would he be better off knowing? Suddenly a shout of tears came from behind them, a woman was clutching at an older man's jacket, tears streaming down her face. Th man too was crying his eyes wide and astonished. A nurse stood awkwardly before them, her face somber and eyes flitting between them and her clipboard. The man had a pained look on his face as he spoke. 

She looked back at Scott, her decision now clear in her mind, "no. Don't tell him."

~~~~~~~

Being on the reception desk Dan always saw those waiting in the area. Every day was different. Some days there were only a scattering, other days it was packed to the brim. Today it was only half full. There were the usual patients coming in for check ups and getting prescriptions, the regulars. Then there were family and friends of the patients who were visiting. But every day there were people anxiously awaiting news of patients who were ill, injured or dying. He could tell which ones were which, the latter group always stood in tight groups rarely talking and everyone's face held that distance quality of far off thought. 

One group in particular caught his eye today. A collection of eight people sat in the chairs apart from the others. Four were dressed in suits, one in a bright dress and the other three in normal clothes. As a group they had spoken very little, the occasional tense conversation but little more than that. 

Dan didn't openly watch them, that would be weird. Instead he glanced at them while he tapped away at his keyboard and greeted incomers. When he observed people he likes to think up who they are in his head, making up little stories about who they might be. However, this group seemed different. They had an air of mystery around them and a part of Dan didn't want to touch that, they had their own secrets which he didn't need to meddle with to make them interesting. They had been sitting in the waiting room for hours now, the only time anyone had left the immediate area was two hours ago when a tall man with dark hair and a crisp suit and tie had stood up and walked down the hall to a patients room. Clearly they were not just here for that one person. They must be here for someone in surgery. 

As if to clarify his musings a nurse hurried towards them and beckoned them away from the waiting area and into another room. 

~~~~~~~

Garcia clutched Morgan's hand as she listened to the nurse. Her eyes swam with tears as she understood what the nurse said. 

Blunt force trauma had ruptured his liver causing it to split and in the process it tore a minor blood vessel. With it having been left bleeding for so long he had suffered a significant drop in blood pressure. For a while it had been touch and go but with the help of a blood transfusion he had been brought back from the brink. The gash to his thigh had been sewn up easily but even after being properly cleaned there was still a risk of infection from the river water. As for the stress fracture on his collar bone it had not needed any surgery, it was set in a sling which would keep his arm still. The concussion had no major effects on his brain apart from a nasty cut on his temple which had bled profusely (as all head wounds do). As for his ribs, the sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth had indeed been broken. The surgeon thought this had led to a Pulmonary Contusion but thankfully there had only been the slightest swelling around his ribs. The biggest concern then had been the effect of drowning, since his lungs had been full of water (the doctors were confused as to how it had all been expelled so quickly, Lydia glanced over at Theilia who looked proud) and thus stopped any oxygen from getting into the blood. Even after resuscitation he was still at risk. But for now, at least, he was stable. 

Hotch thanked her and the nurse nodded with a soft smile. She then left the room closing the door to allow the agents some privacy. 

They were silent for a moment then they started to talk among themselves, the tension was finally gone. They knew now and their hope had not been broken. Lydia smiled properly for what felt like the first in a long time. She hugged Scott who pressed his nose into the crook of her shoulder and let himself relax. His greatest fear was losing Stiles but now he feels like he will pull through. 

Everyone was talking over each other, excitement filling the air, pushing away the dark thoughts. The clatter of their voices echoed off the walls adding to the atmosphere. Everyone was smiling, grinning like mad people. JJ announced that they should go see Reid and tell him the good news.

However, Garcia could only think one thing: he was going to be ok.


	24. Spencer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I explained updates will be slower. School and all that jazz.
> 
> Anyways this chapter is purely Reid's POV
> 
> If you want to read anything into this you can.
> 
> Thank you for the lovely comments and kudos, you are all so awesome
> 
> Enjoy!

Reid woke up to a dimly lit clean room. He sucked in a deep breath and stretched his arms out to the sides and arched his back. His head pounded slightly as pressure built up in his head and he quickly stopped stretching. He raised his head off the pillow and waited to see how he felt. His head felt heavy but apart from that he was fine. Slowly he pushed himself into a sitting position, rearranged the pillows behind him and leant back. He glanced down at his wrist and saw it was tightly bound strapping it in securely. 

Around him monitors and machines beeped, it's discordant echo was hard to listen to but at the same enrapturing. Everything was ordered and perfectly timed but when it all came together it was a chaotic cacophony. 

His thoughts then turned to Stiles, last time he had seen his friend he was lying unconscious on a stretcher. He was staring at the small call button considering getting a nurse when he heard a gentle tap on the door. JJ's face peeked through the gap and a smile broke across her face, relief at seeing him awake 

"Hey, how you feeling?" She asked, concerned filling her eyes, she pushed the door open and his team spilled into the room. 

"Fine" he replied honestly, "I mean my head feels heavy but apart from that it's good"

Morgan stepped out from behind JJ and grinned, "that's probably due to the mile and half road of bandage wrapped around your head"

Reid frowned, "I can't have a mile and...hyperbole." He blushed as he realised his error, "sorry"

Morgan chuckled, "at least we know now that you're fine."

"How's Stiles?" Reid asked

"He's going to be fine." Hotch answered, his eyes gentle and relieved. For a time he thought he could have lost two teammates, he worried for the team. After Emily they couldn't suffer anymore trauma, now he felt that tight knot of fear loosen as his team had crawled out of the seemingly endless tunnel and into the brightness of day that followed, "he's out of surgery now but we can't see him until tomorrow. By then you should be out" he saw Reid about to protest, "I know you don't want to stay here but I asked that you sleep overnight just for today to ensure everything is fine. Then tomorrow you're free." 

Reid slouched against the back rest scowling, he really didn't want to stay here especially when he felt fine! But a rational part of him understood Hotch's logic, sometimes the effects of a concussion can resurface after hours, days even. He sighed and conceded, "fine."

They stayed for a short time longer talking of small things but then Garcia yawned and the energy in the room seemed to be sapped out instantaneously. Everyone's eyes drooped and their shoulders sagged. The days events suddenly caught up with them. 

"We should go back to the hotel." Rossi spoke up, voicing everyone's thoughts, "we'll come back in the morning to see how you are. Ok?"

"Yeah, thank you for seeing me." He watched them as they left and checked the clock on the facing wall. It was only 5:37. He sighed and felt drowsiness creep up on him, he yawned just as a nurse entered his room.

"You should be asleep" she noted over the rim of her glasses, a disapproving look on end face but her eyes glittered with a smile

He slowly brought himself back down into the pillows then he remembered what he wants to ask, "how is Stiles?" 

The nurse smoothed the sheets by his feet and checked on his various monitors, "he's fine, he's in the ICU. The anaesthetic hasn't worn off yet and he's sleeping, as you should be. That concussion isn't going to heal itself you know."

He shot her an apologetic smile and pulled the covers up around his chest. When he was under the sheets he felt much sleepier all of a sudden. It drew him in its soft embrace and felt himself become weightlessly heavy, his limbs smothered by sleep. He heard a soft click as the door closed and he let himself soar off into a world understood by no one except Spencer. 

When he woke up it was dark, not just that gritty dim indecisive is-it-night-yet dark. It was navy. It must be late. Reid scrubbed at his eyes and sat up. He felt even better than earlier, his head felt normal. Silently he swung his legs over the side of the bed and waited for his head rush to go before he started to remove the few wires attached to him. Thankfully he didn't have a cardiac monitor on his chest that would have made his plan much more difficult. It only took a moment to take them all off, then he was free. However, he left his IV line in as he felt taking that out would be risky for his recovery. He still needed fluids. 

His fist obstacle was leaving his room, the window that faced out onto the hall was covered by some blinds pulled down for privacy. He inched them up and glanced outside, it must be late as there was no one around. He squinted at the clock in the darkness and saw it was 12:58am. Most people would be at home now. The handle was metal and cool to touch, his nerves fizzed at the contact. The door swung open silently and Reid caught it before it had the chance to open too wide. Now he was in the corridor he only had a few lights to illuminate his path. Ahead of him was the reception desk and a board with directions on it. He glanced at the desk as saw the night nurse sitting behind it, eyes unfocused on the screen, her head resting on her hand as she scrolled through emails trying to stay awake. Reid bit his lip, how would he get past her? 

As though reading his mind she suddenly stood up, rolled over shoulders and left her area. Reid scampered into the shadows watching as she walked down the hallway to the toilets. Taking his chance he scurried across the wide space and made it to the other side. The sign board told him the ICU was near the OR. Both of which were down this hallway. Reid silently made his way through the endless hallways of the hospital until he pulled up to a hallway of wide glass doors. There were five rooms in total with the OR at the end. Reid set off down peering into each set of doors spying for his friend. 

Stiles was in the fourth room. Reid shot a glance over his shoulder to ensure no one was watching and pushed the door open. As he shut it behind him looked at his friend. Stiles laid below the blue sheets his hands by his sides, fingers relaxed and laying over each other. On one finger was a grey clip measuring his pulse, a set of tubes also came out of his gown - the EKG wires of he wasn't mistaken sending information up to a screen mimicking his frail heartbeat. A ventilator fed a tube down Stiles' throat and up his nose. Clearly his lungs still had not fully recovered from all the water. Reid fiddled with his IV line, he knew everyone said that OK was going to be ok but they hadn't seen him yet. They had met seen his thin face, his pale skin, the two round burns covered by gauze. The bandages that embraced his torso. They don't know. Really Reid didn't know either, he was only seeing what Stiles was suffering but that was enough to slightly understand. 

It was strange to think that the man who lay here, motionless and silent, was the same who had danced so energetically in the bar, winding everyone up into a Bacchic frenzy, the same man who had shared his uncertainties with Reid on his first day. 

Spencer approached Stiles, his eyes taking in every small detail: every tube, wire and beep. He thought his room had a hum of nose, it was barley a sniff compared to the roar of machinery in here. The constant hiss of the ventilator, the staccato buzzing beeps of his heart. Reid reached downs and took Stiles' hand in his own. He didn't lift it or move it, he just held his hand. It seemed silly but a part of him needed reminding that Stiles was still here, still with them. Reid stood for a while, still, silent, and listening. 

Sensing it was time to go he laid Stiles' hand back on the covers and turned to leave. At the door he turned back one last time. He smiled encouragingly at Stiles even though he couldn't see it, he would be alright. He would pull through. 

Reid was walking back to his room wrapped up in his thoughts and he completely forgot about the night nurse. 

"Excuse me?" She voice sliced through his musings, "what are you doing up?"

Reid panicked, he should've been moe vigilant. He glanced around the room searching for an excuse it his brain was addled for the need for sleep. Sleep. That's it! "Sorry" he answered, knotting his fingers together trying to look apologetically guilty, "I sleep walk." 

The nurse instantly dropped her angry expression and flushed embarrassed, "oh, sorry." She paused, "let's get you back then" 

"No, I'll take you back it's alright"

"Oh, right ok then." Clearly he had no say in this matter. He let her steer him towards his room.

She gave him a stern look, "now stay here"

He nodded and waved her off. Sighing he flopped back into bed and stared at the ceiling, his thoughts were rapidly exiting his mind and peaceful emptiness was filling it. Once more he felt himself slip into slumber, this time he had a small smile on his face. He saw a Stiles lying in his bed, eyes shut and expression calm, but Reid knew he would wake soon and everything would be alright.


	25. Corridors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for waiting for me to post this!
> 
> This chapter is kind of a prequel to the next one, so if the last bit doesn't make sense it will be explained next chapter
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and comments! They're the best
> 
> Enjoy!

Morgan was the first to be down in the foyer the next morning, he sat in a big leather chair anxiously awaiting his friends. He watched the guests file in an out, checking in or dragging their suitcases out of the large double glass doors into the cool morning air, laden with memories and laughter. Morgan isn't one to often express anxiety but today he was twisting his fingers into knots in his lap and scratching at the same spot on his wrist, hard enough to leave little pale tracks on his skin. 

He was worried about Reid. He knew he would be affected by this, he was the one in the team who had the most profound emotional response, not that he hadn't built up an 'immunity' to it so to speak, Christ he'd had enough tragedy, disaster and trauma in his life to make Morgan uncomfortable thinking about it. He was also concerned about Stiles. As their newest recruit, completely green and untested in the field, he would be the most unpredictable in his reaction to his kidnapping. This would be the most terrifying experience in his life, being snatched from safety and thrust into the dark world of criminals. It would be hard. Morgan sighed, he wished he could have done something to have prevented this, then Stiles wouldn't have to live with this trauma for the rest of his life. 

"Morning" a voice broke through his thoughts. Morgan looked up and saw Lydia standing behind the chair, her hair was swept behind her ears and her eyes were bright. 

"Morning. Sleep well?" 

"As well as one can hope." She replied, her eyes swept over the large entrance hall taking everything in, "we early?" She asked sitting down in one of the other scattered chairs. She had a bag that flopped onto the floor by her.

"Yeah, haven't been down here long. I just want to go as soon as possible." Morgan looked at the bag, "what's in there?"

Lydia looked down at it, "I got some clothes for Stiles, I know he doesn't like hospital things."

"How come?" Morgan asked

Lydia tensed, she was getting close to dangerous supernatural territory, "his mum died when he was young. Association you know."

Morgan understood, "that must've been hard for him"

Lydia nodded, "it was" she turned to see Scott coming round the corner, he was rubbing sleep from his eyes with one hand as he pushed the other through his hair, 

"mornin'" he mumbled through a yawn

"Where did you sleep?" Morgan asked an eyebrow arching high

"In Lydia's room. On the couch." He stretched his back and shoulders as he spoke.

Soon the rest of the team turned up, Garcia with JJ and Rossi slowly paced down the wide staircase towards them. Hotch was last but he didn't stop just said he passed them, "let's go, two cars."

As one they filed out of the hotel and into their cars. The drive was quick and quiet, thankfully. No one was in the mood for chatter, even though both boys had been rescued they needed to know Stiles was fine before they could properly relax. 

~~~~~~~

Reid was bored. He had been awake for a while now, he knew he should be more specific but his head still sore so making it had to concentrate. He had been lying on his bed, his head on the pillow and staring up at the ceiling. His thoughts were free in his head roaming into this mind. He thoughts about his mum. He should call his mum soon and apologise for the lack of letters. She would be getting worried. That would be his next thing to do. 

He then thought about his father. Something he hadn't done in a very long time. What would he do if Spencer had died? Would he talk to mum or leave her in her own terrifying world? Would he move on quickly or would he drag Spencer's memory around with him for years? Would he wish he had spent more time with his son or be glad he didn't have to worry about him anymore? These swaying thoughts brought a frown to his face and lowered his mood. 

He wished he had a book. At least the time would pass quicker then. Scanning his room he saw there were potted plants, an empty bookshelf (was that merely to taunt him?), and the few machines dotting his room. His eyes stayed fixed on the monitors. Compared to Stiles he had nearly none. The image of Stiles enveloped in the sheets like a shroud was burned in his eyes. The hissing of the ventilator, the incessant beeps of his pulse, the cool air swirling around his warm feverish skin. Reid knew Stiles should be waking up soon, the anaesthetic would have worn off pushing him into normal sleep. Reid wanted to be there when he woke up, apologise for leaving him, apologise for running away, ask why Stiles had sacrificed himself for someone who he barely knew.

The door swished open. His team stood in the doorway. Reid smiled as they came into the room and fanned out across the wall.

"How are you?" Garcia came up to him and wrapped him in a warm perfumey hug only Garcia could provide

"I'm ok." He replied honestly, "my head is still a little sore but apart from that I'm fine."

"Well that's good news" a voice came from behind Hotch and Rossi. The short nurse from yesterday pushed between them, her eyes focused on a clipboard, she looked up at Reid with a twinkle in her eyes, "as we are kicking you out of here."

"Finally" Reid rolled his eyes

"Someone's going stir-crazy" JJ smiled

"It's not my fault there's nothing to do here!" Reid answered incredulously

"Well most people who stay here are asleep." The nurse replied, "not much demand for entertainment" she then came up to Reid and checked under his bandages, the wound was looking clean and much better than yesterday. She took off the bandage and gave Reid the once over, with her hands on her hips she spoke over the rim of her glasses, "now. If you feel sick, dizzy, or overly sensitive to lights go straight to a hospital. You may be past the normal time of a concussion's after effects but there is always the risk. Ok?"

Reid shut his mouth silencing how between 40-80% of people suffered from Post Concussion Syndrome within the first week so it was more than likely he would be back in a hospital when he got back home. Instead he merely nodded. The nurse smiled and told him to get his things and meet them outside.

"I'll stay with you, kid" Morgan told him

"Morgan, I'll get changed. Then you can come in." Reid declared

Nodding Morgan replied, "yeah. Good point. I'll wait outside"

One the team had left to the waiting area Reid began to put his clothes back on. His trousers took slightly longer as he had to keep his head up otherwise it would throb painfully. He awkwardly crouched on the floor feeling where his feet were and scuffing his feet into the legs. Finally he stood up and was about to put on his tie when he placed it over his arm instead. He didn't it right now.

Morgan knocked on the door, "all good?"

"Yeah I'm just coming" Reid checked the room to ensure he hadn't left anything then opened the door. Morgan was leaning on the wall, arms crossed and one foot pushed against the wall. 

"The others are just checking you out"

"Can we go see Stiles?" He didn't want to tell anyone about him seeing Stiles last night, they would only disapprove and reprimand him for it. 

"Sure thing, kid" Morgan pushed himself off the side and the two began to walk over to the waiting area. 

JJ, Garcia and Rossi were standing by the vending machine as Hotch signed papers and forms.

Reid walked over to them twisting his tie in his grip, he knew he would crease it but he was anxious to see Stiles again. He noticed Lydia was fiddling with a small bag, when she saw his attention on it she twitched it and said, "clothes for Stiles"

"Ah"

There wasn't much to say at this point. They just waited until Hotch came back. Reid watched the ordered commotion of day to day hospital life, the never ending rush of movement. The background noise of chatter, computer keyboard taps, and squeaking shoes or wheels enhanced the atmosphere of activity. 

Finally Hotch returned, "let's go find Stiles"

"He's in the ICU" Reid blurted out. At once all the eyes went to him, he flushed realising his error, "I, uh, asked a nurse yesterday." He mumbled the ends of his words off so it rolled into one big mutter. 

Rossi's mouth tugged a smile, "let's go then." 

As one the team joined in the flow of traffic down the halls. The closer they got to the ICU the fewer people went their way. Finally it was only them facing the empty corridor. The walls were a pale cream, it made an image spring to Lydia's head. The pale horse of Death, the horseman. It's skeletal rider swinging its scythe low to the ground harvesting the dead. She bit her lower lip and followed the others. Scott must have smelt her sudden dip in mood as he came next to her and held her hand. She squeezed it in thanks and together they pulled up by Stiles' room. 

~~~~~~~

Everything was chaos. People were flying left and right, screams shot through the air piercing his mind and ears. He was crouched in the centre of this bedlam, hands over his head mouth taught in an unheard scream. Red heat swirled round in the air making it unbearable. Stiles fell to his knees throat raw from shouting, fingers clawing at his hair. Tears streaked down his face he couldn't see them. He screamed out for them trying to see them. Then he caught a glimpse of the distance of a shape. He knew that shape, pushing himself to his hands and knees he sprinted towards the forms. They got closer, he pushed his legs harder ripped at the air that hindered his way. His lungs filled with the sandpaper air hacking at his lungs. He was getting nearer. Finally he was close enough to distinguish them. The Pack were all there. But there was something wrong. When he called they didn't answer, he tried to come closer to see but now he couldn't advance closer, he would walk but he could not approach them. He squinted to try and see what was going on. He yelled again. Suddenly simultaneously they all fell, not like a trip or a stumble, they crumpled like branched hacked off from a great tree. They collapsed to the ground and lay still. Now Stiles found his feet could advance, now he frantically scrambled over to their bodies, now he held each one calling out to them. Their glassy eyes only reflected his desperate, dust covered face. He looked around to try and see anyone to help, only the constant struggle for life ensued around him, faceless people surrounded him. Nameless. Faceless. Stiles rose to his feet seeking out a refuge. When he turned back to see his dead friends they were not there.

A long grey corridor stretched out before his eyes, the light dissipated quickly and was devoured by shadow. The blank walls backed away drawing him into its fathomless depths. Led by nothing Stiles stepped into the hallway. Within a few steps he was entombed in darkness, when he turned to find the light behind him there was nothing only the continuous dark. He reached out to feel for the walls and pushed his hands against it, his eyes were wide. He knew it was useless but he tried to see something, anything, in front of him. The darkness began to press on him, it physically began to compress his body, his chest was squashed and the darkness forced itself into his lungs corrupting his breath, his legs squeezed by this unseen force. He tried to back away but the wall behind him connected with his back and he was drowning in the shadow. 

A chink. It was only a slither but it blinded him. He was dazzled by the brightness behind it. It leered at him like the Cheshire Cat. He heaved at his leaden legs towards the light. Stretching out his hands he strained to reach it, his fingertips trembled from the effort. He grunted through gritted teeth which turned to a groan, to a shout, to a yell, to a roar. 

With the greatest effort he clasped the lip of the wall and dragged himself. The shadows writhed behind him, tendrils still snaking around him trying to draw him back but Stiles yanked at the wall and it crumbled at his touch. The concrete fell like broken glass shattering at his feet leaving him in a vast white space. It was featureless and endless. He spun round calling out but even he couldn't hear himself. 

A sound. The smallest sound. A beep. A single beep. He twisted to where it had come from. He began to jog after it, the sound repeated over and over. A steady rhythm. His feet pounded on the white in time to the beep. He seemed to be moving in slow motion. The sound as getting louder but he wasn't approaching anything. 

Then all at once the light went out and the beeping stopped.


	26. Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting for me! 
> 
> Finally Stiles is awake! 
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and Comments, they still blow me away. 
> 
> If you see any spelling errors just let me know in th comments
> 
> Enjoy!

Lydia was sitting next to Stiles her hand fiddling with his fingers and her eyes washed over Stiles' body. She couldn't see much of his injuries, the sheets and robe covered them and honestly she wasn't sure of she'd want to see them. She was leaning against the bed after pulling the chair close to Stiles. Scott stood next to her leaning against the wall, his head tilted on the plaster eyes closed but still very much aware. 

The agents were spilled over chairs, table tops and the floor. Reid and Garcia had the two other seats in the room, JJ was perched on the arm rest of Garcia's chair. Rossi leant against the small table and Hotch was next to him. Morgan had decided to sit on the floor, his legs stuck out on the linoleum. 

A nurse had just entered the room and if he was startled by the small crowd inside, he didn't show it just pushed on with his routine checks. First he changed Stiles' oxygen mask for a simple nasal cannula, next he ensured his ECG was working and the readings matched with his real pulse. Finally he worked his way around the various other machines haloing Stiles' head. He seemed satisfied and turned round to face the team,

"He's looking good. He should wake up soon, the anaesthetic has worn off so he is sleeping naturally now. When he does press the call button and a nurse will come. We need to check he is alright once he's awake. Ok?" They all confirmed it was and he then left. 

Half an hour later they were still waiting, despite the sleep they had had they were still tired. No one was talking, moving, nor thinking much. Lydia shifted her chair closer to Stiles and laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes watching the team as one by one they drifted into a light doze, soon onto her and Scott were awake. 

Scott pushed himself off the wall and walked round to the other side of Stiles' bed and touched his arm, thin black tendrils snaked up his arm. Now the others were asleep he could take some of his friends pain. 

"What do you think is going on in his head?" Mused Scott, "his eyes have been moving a lot. They're still now but earlier"

"Apparently a side effect of anaesthesia is vivid dreams." Lydia quietly replied, her head still on Stiles' shoulder and her left hand playing with his hand, "most likely it's a mixture of his kidnapping and some crazy Stiles dream."

Scott huffed a laugh, "yeah." He paused, "I've missed him." 

Lydia paused in her constant fidget with Stiles' fingers, "same"

"You still talk to him though-"

"It's not the same" she sighed, "I love our talks, I really do but...I miss being with him. Having him physically there."

"Why don't you tell him?"

"You should see how happy he is, Scott. This is his dream, he loves this. He's an FBI agent, he helps save people, and he has a fantastic team."

"They're sort of his Pack now aren't they?" Scott asked sadly

Lydia thought about that, "maybe. Maybe not." She could see Scott shift in her peripheral vision, "I mean they aren't a Pack in our sense of the word, they have a bond though. They need that trust, it's what keeps them alive. A lone wolf needs a Pack, a lone agent needs their Team. He's always had a Pack and when he moved to Virginia he found a new one."

"I just wish he could come back home. Even for a short time, see everyone again. I know it's selfish" Scott rushed, "but they miss him."

"We all miss him, but you only have to miss him. He has to miss all of us. He had to start all over again."

"I guess you're right." Scott was still slowly benign the pain from Stiles, he found out that if he did it slowly he could take more from them. Reid suddenly shifted and opened his eyes blinking in the harsh pale light of the fluorescent the lamps. Scott tugged his hand back, heart beating fast he covered up the streaks with his free hand. He knew Stiles hadn't told the team about the supernatural. 

Reid scrubbed his eyes and yawned, when he opened them he saw Scott standing by Stiles, his left hand was gripped over his right bicep but what interested Reid was what looked like little ink lines vanishing under his hand. Reid blinked again and when he reopened them they were gone. He frowned and looked at Scott. The young man innocently pulled his hand away from his arm to reveal a tattoo. It was two rings that encircled his upper arm, the top ring was thicker than the lower one. Reid looked hard at Scott, he had a dark thick flop of hair, his eyes were the same deep brown colour, not dissimilar to a dog, they held a pining innocence to them, but they also had a look of power behind them. His entire frame had that stance, not passive but at the same time not aggressive. He was waiting. Watching, like a guard dog. For Stiles? Possibly. 

Lydia still caressed Stiles' hand as she watched Reid scrutinise Scott, he could most likely see something was off, Scott always seemed to have a guilty look about him. Then Scott's question drifted back across her mind, should she call his dad? Now they knew he was going to be ok he wouldn't have to panic but he would still worry that Stiles had been injured an nearly lost when he was so far away. She opened her mouth to speak.

~~~~~~~

A tickle. It was his first sensation. An irritating tickle on his nose. He tried to move to brush it off but his limbs didn't respond. He frowned and mumbled, "what's on my face?"

He squinted as he opened his eyes to see red. The man, his kidnapper was standing right above him. Stiles made to leap back against the wall but when he tried to push on his right arm his lower neck pierced him with pain and he shouted in pain. The red came back and he tried to pull away but in the blurry haze of fire he saw the purest emerald. He knew only one person with those eyes. Lydia. 

He tried to speak but his throat was cracked and parched, it was barely more than a whisper, "Lydia?"

~~~~~~~

She was about to ask her question when Stiles' hand jerked in her grasp. She froze. Could she have imagined it? Scott and Reid looked vaguely confused at her wide eyes and quick breathing. Scott would also hear her rapidly beating heart. She waited.

Stiles suddenly mumbled something incomprehensible. She sat bolt upright and Scott leaned in closer. Reid shoved Rossi and Hotch to wake them up, Garcia and JJ were roused by the scuffle of motion and Morgan woke up last. Everyone's eyes were on Stiles as a soft frown marred his pale face and he finally opened his eyes. 

His pupils were huge, his iridescent amber irises were almost swallowed up by the massive ebony pupils. Lydia smiled and leant over Stiles, she was so afraid she would never see those eyes again. Stiles blinked and then his blank expression from sleep vanished and terror replaced it. He suddenly tried to scramble away from her; those delicate eyes morphing from warm, sweet honey to sharp shards of quartz. He was desperate to escape but when he moved his sling-bound arm he collapsed onto the pillows heart racing. He uttered a moan of pain and she slowly came back up to him, she didn't want to scare him again. 

She let her hair fall off her shoulders and restrict the world to only them. Suddenly clarity seemed to clear the fog of fear and he really saw her. 

"Lydia?" His voice was rough and sore from disuse but she smiled until her cheeks ached

"Hey" 

His good arm suddenly looped around her shoulders and he gripped her tightly, fingers digging into her side as she ensnared him in her embrace. She gently pulled him closer and sat him up. She felt his breaths become juddery and hitched as he succumbed to sobs, she too was crying with relief. It was almost tangible, the air was swirling with released anxiety, it dissipated as everyone heaved a sigh.

She pulled back to let him see the others who were tightly gathered around the end of the bed, concern swamping in their faces.

Stiles looked at each one, his hand still gripping Lydia's, he saw their faded fear and their joy. He bit his lower lip feeling very self-conscious all of a sudden. A plastic cup of water came into his peripheral vision and Stiles looked up to see Scott, arm extended and a small smile on his face,

"Scott..." he said stupidly, his brain was still trying to catch up and a pounding headache was forming behind his eyes

"How you feeling buddy?" Scott asked and gestured for Stiles to take the cup, he reached out and took it but his hands were trembling a little. He brought it down to his lap.

"Where are we?" Stiles felt very disorientated, his last memory was running in the dark hallway, it seemed endless.

"Hospital." Morgan replied

"I guessed as much" Stiles deadpanned. JJ's mouth twitched and she let her hair fall in front of her face to hide her smirk.

Stiles raised the cup with the water and it had only just touched his lips when the rooms door opened,

"No!" 

Stiles jumped and some water sloshed over the side of the cup onto his bed, he coughed as the water lurched around. He pulled the water away from his mouth and it was immediately snatched away from him by an angry nurse,

"You can't drink until the anaesthetic has fully worn off" he glared at the team as though they were supposed to know all of this

Stiles scowled, "it seems to be gone seeing as I'm awake" he waved his good arm a little to emphasise his point, "and I'm thirsty." 

"No water for the first few days. You can have ice chips if you wish." 

"I'll take an order of that then." Stiles narrowed his eyes as the nurse left the room in a huff, "I don't like him" 

"I can tell" Rossi sounded amused

"How long was I out?" Stiles suddenly asked, he let himself relax onto the pillows stacked behind him, he absent-mindedly fiddled with the cannula tube. 

"Two, two and a half days." Hotch replied

Stiles suddenly was shot by a burst of worry, "I need to call my dad! I haven't talked to him since my first day. Oh he's gonna be so pissed." Stiles let his head tilt back onto the headboard

Morgan looked confused, "I don't think he will be pissed, he'll be worried for you Stiles."

Stiles shared a look with Scott who glanced down at the floor. 

"I'm getting the feeling we are missing something." Rossi noted slowly, his eyes travelling between the two friends and Lydia who sat on the bed refusing to meet any of their eyes. 

Angry Nurse swept back into the room saving Stiles from having to explain his colourful life in Beacon Hills. The nurse pointedly gave the ice chips to Lydia and intruded her on how and when to give Stiles the ice chips. As he was finished Stiles reached round Lydia's waist, grabbed a chip and popped it in his mouth grinning at the nurse who looked like he could have slapped Stiles. 

"Thanks" Stiles added, "for the ice", he watched the nurse leave the room again. However, Morgan would not let the previous matter go. 

"Stiles, are you ok?"

"Yeah, why?" The ice was melting in his mouth filling his mouth with the cool texture of moisture he so desperately craved. 

"You were kidnapped, tortured, drowned, and have just woken up after serious surgery and you're brushing it off like it's nothing." He looked round at the others, "most people should be a broken mess."

"I could be a boss at compartmentalisation-" Stiles began but Morgan wasn't having it

"Cut the crap Stiles. You've suffered extreme emotional and physical trauma-" 

Hotch stepped in now seeing Stiles was starting to react. His pulse was picking up slightly and his eyes shifted to a hard flints, "Morgan. That's enough." When he looked like he was going to argue, "I said enough." 

Stiles wasn't feeling as perky anymore, his chest was painful and his leg was throbbing, "I'm feeling kind of tired." He muttered

"We will come back for you in a bit." Lydia understood what he was feeling, she rose and the rest followed her as she left the room. Garcia dithered in the doorway, she turned round to see Stiles watching her. His dark eyes catching every move, they were wide and full of intrigue. 

She sighed and came up to him, leant down and wrapped him in a warm hug, he didn't react at first but then he fell into it and responded with his left arm. 

"Don't worry about Derek, he's just-"

"It's Emily isn't it." Stiles didn't phrase this like a question, Garcia looked slightly confused so he continued, "I know he was the one who was with her when she died. He blames himself."

"How to do you know about that."

Stiles looked guiltily up at her, "I may have got a friend to get some of your files..." She stood up straight, eyes calculating. He lowered his eyes and focused on his hands, "I know it was wrong but I...I've always done research, I don't like going into things where I am in the dark." He huffed a little laugh, "this makes me seem like a paranoid person, or a stalker." His words came faster and faster, mushing into one great long sentence, "But I...I don't know now I'm telling you it seems like the worst thing a person could do to his team, it's like I don't trust you but I do. I've always done research and it's a habit. Habits are hard to break y'know? That's how I know about Morgan and Emily and Reid and Hankel and that's why I made him get out of there because I couldn't make him stay and relive those memories because I know what's it's like to have nightmares brought back. I feel like the worst person because I did all of this behind your back rather than just asking about it and-"

"How did you get past my firewalls?"

Stiles was brought to a halt, "what?" 

"My firewalls are there best. I check them daily, how did you get past them?"

"Did you hear what I just said?" When Garcia gave him a stern look he hurried on, "my friend Danny Mahealani, he's a hacker. He got me in." Stiles felt very sheepish 

Garcia narrowed her eyes but a playful glint still shone through, "ill need to talk to this Danny."

Stiles panicked, "you're not going to arrest him are you?!" 

"No, I need to ask him about his hacking skills. It takes more than the average brain to get past my firewalls." She said proudly. She then blinked and sighed, "Stiles what you did-"

"I know I was terrible"

"I would have done it. And if I'm honest..." Garcia was twisting her handbag handles in her hand, "you're not the only one."

"You looked me up?" Stiles ventured

Garcia nodded, a gentle blush creeping up her neck, "yeah. The team is my family. When I found out you were joining us I research you."

"What'd you find?"

"You've had a very traumatic past, with your mum to the seemingly endless murders in Beacon Hills you have had more than your fair share of tragedy. But the thing that I found the best about you was that after all that, after everything you went through, you're still yourself. Very few people come through that undamaged."

"Thanks Garcia" Stiles whispered, his throats constricted with emotion. 

"Anytime." Her voice was full of understanding, "Now you need rest. Ill come back in a while" she smiled at him across the room as she left and shut the door behind her. 

~~~~~~~

He stayed staring at the door for a while longer. His head was really uncomfortable, his thigh was hurting and chest was extremely tender, he gently leant himself back on the pillows and found the pain medication, he pushed the button to release it into the tube, he felt the cool liquid enter his vein and a slight numbing came over his body, within a few moments the excruciating pulsing agony was dulled down enough for him to lie peacefully. 

A nurse came in soon, thankfully it was a different one this time. She made sure everything was working. Stiles then asked if he could move, just to sit on a chair. The nurse looked unsure, patients weren't supposed to move for at least a day after their operation but she understood how you felt trapped in the bed as she tentatively agreed and as she pulled back the covers he sat up slowly. His abdomen flared up with pain as he moved. He puffed out his cheeks and used his one good arm to push himself. Finally he was up and then came the arduous task of getting his legs over the side of the bed, the nurse offered to help but he refused, he was determined to do this by himself. He hated when others made him feel like a child. 

Getting his left leg off was fine but the gash on his right leg just added to the multitude of agonies scattering his body. He forced himself to move it though, and gradually he lowered it. When it was bent at an angle he could feel the stitches pulling but it was not painful. The sling made balancing difficult as he slid off the bed difficult, his equilibrium was madly off kilter and he swayed as he stood, the nurse thankfully caught hold of him and supported him. He grasped the IV line stand and let the nurse guide him to a seat by the window. Each step took an age, the muscles in his legs were only just repairing, his chest bit his lungs with pain as he inhaled a deeper breath. Nevertheless he pushed on until he lowered himself to the chair. The pain meds were helping. 

The nurse made sure he was comfortable and stood up leave when Stiles blurted out, "can I see my patient sheet? Or whatever it's called?"

The nurse again looked hesitant but conceded and handed him the clipboard with his injures on it. He waited until she had left the read it. 

He felt sick when he read he had actually died, the other injuries didn't bother him as much they could heal but the fact that he had died...that was something altogether different. Stiles continued to read but his mind kept returning to that one fact. He had been dead. 

Dead. The word stuck with him, it made him think of all the deaths he'd seen, he'd been surrounded by death ever since he was eight years old, but this was different, he himself had stopped living. 

Garcia's words echoed in his head, "After everything you went through, you're still yourself. Very few people come through that undamaged."

He had always been able to hide his pain by helping others or humour, it helped hide it from himself but now that had been stripped away. Now it stared him straight in his face. How damaged was he?


	27. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, a few things to say:
> 
> Thank you so much for bearing with me. All my exams will be done in three weeks after which I can begin to write more again (yay!!)
> 
> I'm sorry this chapter isn't that long, I found a little bit of time and finished off this chapter, this was hard to write but I hope it comes off well. 
> 
> And finally thank you for the support through this period of time, the kudos and comments are amazing and you are the reason for me to keep updating so thank you!!

Garcia walked into the waiting room to see Morgan in a heated conversation with Hotch, as she walked closer she heard what was going on

"Hotch, how can you sit there while you can see he is hiding something?! What if there is something we haven't seen?"

"Morgan we all have secrets but we don't pry into each others lives."

"But he's completely fine!" Morgan gestured angrily down the hall from where they came

"Is that a problem?" 

"Yes! Because someone who went through that should be goddamn terrified of pretty much everything! Scared out of their mind that this is just a dream! They should be in tears about being free! But he's just giving lip to the nurses and brushing it off!-"

"He's not you know" Garcia intervened, "sure he's not a sobbing mess, let's be grateful for that, but he's not brushing it off." Everyone's eyes were on her, slightly apart from the group stood Lydia and Scott, Garcia heaved a sigh, "I just talked to him and if I'm honest he's seen a lot worse..." Garcia kept her eyes locked on Lydia and Scott, her meaning conveying across to them. 

"What do you mean?" JJ asked, "how do you know?"

"I don't like going behind people's backs but" she paused and collected her thoughts, "when Stiles first joined us he got a friend to hack into our files and he researched us-"

"He what?" Hotch immediately spun to go and confront Stiles about the he breach on security and trust

"But he wasn't the only one!" Garcia hurried added, Hotch paused and she carried on speaking, "I also did a background check on him. You know how I feel about you."

"Garcia, he still hacked into the system - wait how did he do that?"

Garcia let her eyes travel over to the pair standing apart and Lydia supplied their answer, "his name is Danny. He's always hacked into stuff, ever since high school."

"Also it's sort of instinctive for Stiles. He used to be the researcher of our group, his first action, whatever he's doing, is to find out about it." Scott added, arms tightly crossed defensively 

"Also" Garcia practically shoved the words in front of Hotch as she saw him open his mouth to speak, "when he told me this I said how he knows it's bad and he feels terrible about it but come on. He came into a team of people who have known each other for years; a group who has celebrated together, fought together, worked together. He comes when we are emotionally unstable, a newbie in our family and you expect him to not want to find out what happened? If anyone came into that situation they would want to find something out, and - another idea has just suddenly come into my brain - he could have also researched us knowing about...about what happened and did a background check on us for the very purpose of not bringing anything sensitive up!" Her eyes pleaded for Hotch and the others to understand, she turned to Morgan, "how do you think he hasn't said anything about Emily yet? He has never brought up how he came to the job. He knew about it and he didn't want to cause you anymore pain." Next was Reid, "he didn't just find out about Morgan. Do you know why he made you go?" Reid shook his head, "he did it so you didn't have to relive Hankel." She looked round at all of them, "I think he knows everything we have been through and he had the decency not to say anything about it and not make us feel uncomfortable or upset." 

Everyone was silent as they digested this information, Garcia sighed and continued at a much less frantic pace, "when I researched him I found out more than I wanted to." Once again she looked straight at Lydia, "he wasnt lying when he said his father was the sheriff so he was involved with the crimes."

"What do you mean?" Rossi asked

"I mean Stiles was quite literally part of the crimes." She stopped Hotch's question before he even asked it, "no he did not commit the crimes but he was seriously in deep. Beacon Hills had a never ending crime wave; murderers, alleged monsters, missing people. It was constant and every single time Stiles and his friends were there. He put himself in danger countless times: he was injured, kidnapped and beaten, and held at gun point - point black at his forehead. That and so much more." She heaved a great breath, "all I'm saying is that Stiles has always done stuff like this, he has been involved in this a lot longer than any of us knew. That is why he didn't flinch when seeing a body, why he was so at ease with being surrounded by death. That is why he can hide it. He's had far too much practice and he has been able to hide this from himself as well as everyone else but now...now he can't hide. It's stripped out before him and it terrifies him, he is trying to be strong but after everything that has just happened..." Garcia gave an indefinite gesture and let her words hand in the air. "I think he deserves a little privacy and love, he's been through a lot and we need to be his family. Like we are for each other."

Everyone looked slightly shell shocked the vast swathe of information had felt them unsure what to say. 

Morgan was staring at Garcia but his eyes were glazed and his mind was far off replaying everything he had seen for Stiles since he arrived and notice how composed he had been through the brief, at the crime scene Reid said he had been fine, seeing the photographs of the victims. Morgan rubbed the back of his head and muttered about needed some air and walked down the nearest hallway. He paced down the harshly lit corridors not thinking where he was going he just needed to walk. 

Morgan turned left down a hall and found himself in the ICU wing. He slowed his pace until he pulled up at Stiles' door. Morgan peeked round the corner not wanting Stiles to see him. Their new member sat in a chair, shoulders rounded, left arm low in his lap and his right looped up in a sling, his legs were relaxed lightly resting on the seats armrests, his ankles were crossed over each other under the seat. 

Stiles had changed into sweatpants under his hospital gown, had undone the back and was in the process of pulling it off. Morgan thought he should turn away to give Stiles his privacy, but as he made to leave something caught Morgans eye. All across Stiles' left shoulder blade was a thin silver scar that reminded Morgan of lightning, the lines scratched down his back where they dissipated off just above his hip. Morgan watched, fascinated, as Stiles gently manoeuvred to put on a tshirt, slowly pulling his right arm through the hole grimacing as he did. As he shifted more old wounds were revealed: long narrow scars, thick short pink ones vivid against his skin, winding scars and scars that left the flesh puckered. Morgan was utterly speechless, Stiles had more battle scars than all of the team out together, hell, probably more than the entire FBI put together. What had he gone through to get those? 

His view on Stiles had drastically changed since he first met Stiles, previously he thought of him as a little kid who was green as grass and who would need to be led and comforted when he saw the dark side to their job. Now, now Morgan saw Stiles as a man who had suffered but had grown from his pain. 

He was so sucked into thoughts he didn't realise Stiles had seen him. 

"Morgan?" 

Morgan snapped out of his haze and blinked, flinching at the look on Stiles' face. A mix of pain, hurt, betrayal, and, strangely, fear all showed in his expression. The young man was frozen, one arm in the tshirt and the other in the process of pulling it over his head. 

Morgan coughed and Stiles finished the motion in a swift tug letting the material fall to his waist, "Hey, kid"

"Thought that was Reid's name" it wast a question, Morgan sensed a hostile tone behind the words, Morgan didn't say anything, he couldn't think of what to say, "there's no point in hiding anymore, you all know my dirty little secret." Stiles sniffed and felt his eyes prickle with tears heat, "Practically lost my chance for gaining your trust seeing as I went behind all your backs to find stuff out and-"

"Hey" Morgan had moved in front of Stiles as he was speaking and now was sat in front of him in the opposing chair, he reached out and gently put his hand on his friends knee, "don't try and be a tough guy in front of me." Stiles roughly cuffed the tears away and sniffed, "I'll be honest, it wasn't a pleasant surprise to find out that had done that" Stiles opened his mouth to speak but Morgan ploughed on, "but that doesn't mean you have lost our trust. Definitely not mine." He sighed and rubbed his face, "look. When you first came here I thought we were going to have a kid so green they still have grass stains on their knees and would have to be baby sat. Instead? Instead we got a badass, who not only survived something no one should endure but also someone who seems to have already been through the blender before." Stiles looked up at Morgan with glistening eyes, "I know I shouldn't have been watching-"

"That makes you sound like a stalker" Stiles giggled wetly

Morgan smiled, "maybe so but that doesn't take away from the fact that I saw your back. I saw the scars. I saw the figures." Stiles swallowed deeply at the last one and his left hand reached up to thought the top of this shoulder, "I'm not claiming to know what you went through and I'm not asking for the right to ask. I just want you to now that you're one of us. You're part of the family. Don't block us out, we want to help. So when you're ready...we will be there. Ok?"

Stiles nodded, "thanks." He rubbed his nose again and sighed, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Well...everything I guess. I'm sorry about Emily mainly. I know what it's like to lose close friend. Im sorry if I'm don't live up to her she was a great agent."

Morgan sighed, "you won't live up to her" he replied simply 

Stiles frowned slightly, "what-"

"You can't live up to her because you are yourself. Don't go around trying to beat others. Try and beat yourself. Don't live in the fear of not being Emily, live being yourself. That is how you can honour her memory."

"Thanks, Derek."


	28. Checkmate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end draws ever nearer. Thank you for waiting once again!
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and comments, you guys are absolutely the best!

Recovery was a slow and painful process. After his injuries had healed enough for the stitches to be taken out without fear of the wounds reopening everyday he would have to go through a series of stretches and body weight exercises to rebuild strength in his thigh and around his shoulder. 

A week after his surgery Stiles was allowed to travel back to Virginia. He gingerly sat down in the plane seat and released a puff of air, his abdomen still pinched him with stabs of pain but each time it was becoming more bearable. 

"You ok?" JJ's eyes were glowing with concern

"Yeah I'm ok. Thanks." Stiles leant back into the seat and waited for the rest of the team to join them. Morgan and Hotch would be the last to join them as they were busy dealing with the final problem. 

~~~~~~~

Morgans hands were clenched in tight fists under the table. His jaw bunched as he gripped his teeth together in a vice like crush. However, his expression was calm and careful. Hotch was leant against the nearest wall, his arms crossed over his chest and a scrutinising expression masking his own rage. 

In between the two furious agents sat one small man cowering under the heat of their intense gazes, his wrists were squeezed into metal handcuffs, his dull red hair fell lank around his wide face. Mud brown eyes flickered over the floor not daring to look up lest he meet those of the agents. 

Dale Wallace was visibly cowering. Morgan nor Hotch felt any pity. 

"Six people." At the first syllable Wallace flinched. Hotch pressed on, "six innocent people. You killed them for your own intrigue-"

"I was right though" his thin voice hissed between his dirty teeth

"Care to explain?" Morgan did not hide his contempt like his superior 

Wallace raised his eyes to meet Morgan, "no one came." 

"Each of your victims' families spent all their energy and time trying to find them. No one stoped until they were found. They had no idea what happened to them, only when their body was found did they get any peace of mind. You stole from them their families." 

Wallace snarled, "but they didn't come. Someone else had to do it. You can never rely on family, they are too weak to try-"

Morgan grimaced, "your mother could never have saved you, she was lost in her own mind. Being bipolar only made her more susceptible to her eventual break. Just because you suffered in your childhood doesn't mean you have to make other people suffer for it."

"Your agent would have understood me if he had lived-" Wallace bit back

"Agent Stilinski survived"

"No thanks to you"

Wallace froze, "he's alive?" When Hotch confirmed this his shock melted into a smug grin, "well he will understand. You can't escape that. He will-"

"That's where you're wrong, you see" Morgan cut him off and leant forwards in his seat, "that kid has already been through plenty of crap and yeah he may be damaged, all of us are. Every one of us has been through the meat grinder but do you see any of us kidnapping, torturing, and murdering people? Stiles has suffered but do you know why he won't break like you?" Morgan held his eye contact with the unsub and did not let his break it, "because he is a man who has more integrity and more strength than you could ever hope to have. But most importantly he has more faith in his friends and family than you ever did. You are born trusting the people who care for you and surround you but as you grow up you have to earn that trust. You lost your ability to trust and that is terrible but you never tried to trust again."

"Because they will just let you down again!" Wallace leapt up from his seat hands planted on the metal table top restricted by the bolted cuffs, eyes wild with rage.

Morgan did not flinch at his outburst, but the intensity of his speech increased, "that's what people do! They let you down, they make you want to stop! But that is what makes you try harder. You don't stop when one attempt fails, you get up and try again. Yes you will not win every time, but you can be damn sure that we will not let Stiles fall. That is what is means to earn somebody's friendship. They are there to pick you up, to help you, to drag you back from the brink. People are meant to fail, it's the others that surround you who guide you through your life."

Morgan threw the unsub a withering glare, stood up and stalked out of the room, Hotch pushed himself off the wall and followed his colleague leaving Wallace immobile, standing still as his mind flooded with memories of drowning, the cold water slicing down his throat clogging his lungs and blinding his eyes. His hands trembled on the cool metal. Gasps clawed at his oesophagus and his hand tried to clutch at his neck. A crash brought him back with a snatch of air. The door slammed shut shutting him in the small room with only a camera watching him. 

Dread pulsed through his heart, the dense, claustrophobic air crushing him and he began screaming, raving wildly hurling curses, tugging at the restraints. Images of his mother shrieking at him filled his vision and he lunged to attack her but he crashed into the table which skidded forwards he lay on the floor flailing until guards ran into the room to calm him down. His mind was fractured and was splintering as he writhed on the floor crying out to his mother blaming her for his failure. Sepia toned memories flashed around his vision all floundering in his liquified mind until all that was left was a blur of terror reducing the man to a sobbing mess, held down by guards as he babbled incoherently, words mashing together in their haste to be said. 

Morgan swallowed as he watched the sudden break of their unsub. He knew he was the final nudge that pushed Wallace over the edge. 

"You did well in there" Hotch quietly spoke, "it is better it happened here where he isn't a danger to others."

"I meant it. We need it be there for Stiles." 

"We always are." 

"I know" 

~~~~~~~

Stiles was gazing out the window when his seat tilted over to his right. He looked up and saw Lydia sitting on the arm rest,

"Is this how you always travel?"

"Sadly yes, coach was full." He grinned up at her and wrapped his arm around her waist, "can you stay in Virginia for a while?" He spoke softly 

Lydia sighed, "I need to get back, I've been gone over a week." Stiles nodded in despondent understanding, "but I guess I could stay another day...just to make sure you're all settled..." 

Stiles gripped Lydia tighter and smiled, "thanks" she bent down and kissed him lightly in the lips.

"Am I interrupting something?" Rossi joked as he came into the cabin

"Haha" Stiles sarcastically replied, "very funny, Rossi" Stiles then turned to Lydia, "did you know he has a mansion?" He glanced over at Rossi his eyes glittering 

"Reportedly it has secret passages and a dungeon" Reid joined in as he followed in behind Rossi

"Not to forget the garage full of old vintage cars" JJ smiled behind her phone 

"A ball room and a great dining room big enough to make Hogwarts jealous. Quite a quaint little place" Garcia stepped round Rossi who was scowling, yet still unable to hide his amusement. 

Lydia and Scott watched the teams interactions and noted how well Stiles slotted into their conversations, they caught each others eyes and exchanged a knowing look. Stiles was going to be ok. 

The plane door popped open again and Morgan entered followed by Hotch. At once the atmosphere in the small space sobered, "how did it go?" Garcia asked, worry creeping into her voice

Morgan glanced over at Stiles who was looking down at his clenched hands, lips thin, and leg bouncing slightly, "it went...as expected." Stiles looked up at Morgan, "he's gone" Stiles watched Morgan searching for microexpressions and saw the briefest flash of guilt slide across his face and Stiles understood. What went on was more than should be said. Stiles nodded and didn't press. 

"So, Scott" Stiles deliberately turned towards his friend, "how's the vet thing coming on?" 

The lingering tension gradually began to dissipate as conversation moved away from the case. Reid kept glancing over at Stiles and noticed no matter how engaged in the chat he seemed, his eyes were slightly glazed over, or distant. Clearly his mind was elsewhere. 

When the talk dried up everyone turned their thoughts inwards and drew into themselves. When most were asleep or otherwise preoccupied Reid picked up his chessboard and sat down opposite Stiles. 

"You play?"

"Not very well or often." 

"Ok." Reid began quickly setting up the board, "I often play when I'm stressed or have a lot on my mind." He placed the kings neatly in their places and sat back, "it helps clear my mind. White moves first."

Stiles reached forwards and pushed his pawn forwards. Reid leapt his knight over his pawns and sucked a breath. They played for a short while longer when Reid led his bishop out into a seemingly precarious position. 

"Isn't it risky to leave your bishop there?" Stiles asked, "I mean I could just sweep in and" he neatly took Reid's piece with his knight, "do that?" He leant back smiling

"Ah, but" Reid in turn deftly shifted his rook to take Stiles' knight, "not if I have backup."

Stiles felt his smile vanish and disbelief took its place, "Dammit."

Reid grinned, "it always helps to take a step back and look a the bigger picture."

"Alright Aristotle. I'm getting the feeling you're wanting to say something." Stiles said as he desperately tried to salvage his rapidly dwindling team. 

"I am. You can't blame yourself for what happened." When Stiles opened his mouth to protest Reid carried on, "don't try and argue. I know you do. I know how you feel." Reid fiddled with the bishop focusing all his attention in the little wooden piece, "I understand our guilt."

"Hankel?" Stiles tentatively asked 

Reid nodded

Stiles sighed and sat back into his chair, "well Mr Holmes, you have found me out." He attempted a smile but couldn't find the energy, "you're right. I blame myself."

"Can I ask why?"

"Was it my fault? Was it because of my love of my friends that I was taken? Do I wear my heart in my sleeve "for the 'daws to peck at" to plagiarise Shakespeare."

Reid thought for a moment, "with this job...there comes a threat. A threat to your friends, family...yourself. That..." he heaved another sigh, "that changes you. I'm not going to lie. You have to. But they keep you grounded. It's your devotion to your friends that saved you-"

"But if I hadn't had that picture on my keychain-"

"If you hadn't had it we wouldn't have cracked your case. Lydia wouldn't have called, Scott wouldn't have come. Don't you see it's your love for other people that saved you."

"This is sounding like a tv show."

"Stiles"

"I know. I'm not very good with facing myself." He chuckled heavily and muttered to himself, "sarcasm is my only defence."

"Not any more" 

Stiles looked at Reid for a while, really studying him. His mop of hazel hair that just covered his cut, the way he was chewing his lip, his loose tie hanging around his neck, his clear eyes clouded with his past troubles. Stiles bit the inside of his cheek before saying, "your move"

Reid looked disappointed, "it's not good to bottle up your thoughts." Nevertheless he focused on the game again 

'I've done it before' Stiles thought, "I'm just worried that because I showed my feelings that other unsubs will use that against me and...I'm worried my friends will get hurt because of me."

"You're used to having to protect your friends I assume?" 

Stiles let his gaze drift over to Scott and Lydia, "In a way"

"In the BAU we look out each other. We are a family. You're not alone."

Stiles hummed in reply and turned his attention back to the game. Everything would now be a chess game, always thinking one step ahead of the unsub, trying to have many options to drive them to success. However, now he wouldn't have to worry about backup. He had the team.


	29. Healing Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting for this. Now all my exams are done I can begin to write more again! 
> 
> Your kudos and comments are, as ever, the best. Thank you so much! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Scott fizzed with a childlike excitement. Lydia was trying to hide her enthusiasm under a calm facade. Stiles grinned at his friends reactions. 

"This is so cool, dude" Scott looked like his face was about to get Joker scars from smiling too much

"Ah well, Scotty boy, you see when you come here everyday the novelty wears off" Stiles replied in the most pompous puffed up voice he could managed

Morgan lightly cuffed him up the back of his head with a snort, "alright, tough guy"

"Dude!" Stiles muttered through his teeth, "I'm trying to look cool in front of my friends" his suppressed laughter bled into his words

Morgan shook his head and, chuckling, pushed open the glass doors as Stiles beckoned Scott and Lydia into the bull pen. With a sweeping gesture he drew his friends into his office, "the belly of the beast" 

Scott's eyes were huge taking in every single detail, "Stiles...this is crazy" 

Stiles carried on walking to his desk and sank gratefully into his chair, Reid had been following and placed his bag down onto his desk and smiled at Stiles who made a mini two fingered salute towards his friend. A bump on his leg made Stiles glance down and saw Lydia rooting through his drawers, her face eager and intrigued, "uh what you searching for, Lyds?"

"Secret files" she deadpanned, "I'm just being nosy" her hand reached the bottom drawer and tugged. When she found it was locked she threw Stiles and raised eyebrow who drew the key from his pocket. As she pulled one the drawer the soft pages of the Bestiary came into the light and softly gasped, "you keep it here?!"

"Is it safe?" Scott asked worriedly

"Absolutely. I keep it locked and only look at it when I need to."

"Clearly that's often" Lydia brushed the well thumbed edges

"What you looking at?" JJ asked as she leant against his desk, her eyes peering into the shadowed drawer

"If I told you I'd have to kill you" 

"Ha. Ha. Stilinski"

"Try me Jareau"

"Oh it's gonna be like that?"

"You bet" 

JJ smirked and pushed herself off the desk, "Spence, do you have the files I sent you?"

Reid was about to answer when Garcia bustled into their conversation, "my fellow compatriots. I have made a very interesting discovery" in her hand was a USB, "in this little stick is something that no human should ever see. It is...well I can't describe it. You must watch it yourself."

"Baby Girl what is it?" Morgan looked apprehensive 

"To the meeting room we go. Summon Hotch and Rossi too. No one can miss this." 

~~~~~~~

Once everyone was clustered into the maroon room and the door firmly closed and the blinds lowered tightly Garcia flipped the lights off and stood before the screen, illuminated from behind leaving onto a silhouette, "what you are about to see is...there are no words" she stepped to the side and revealed a room with cream walls, in the foreground was a person who looked unconscious; their head was tilted down so their face was obstructed only their dark hair and maroon top were visible. 

Everyone in the room was confused, all except Stiles. His stomach dropped when he saw the image, his mouth fell into a perfect 'O'

Garcia pressed play and the Spice girls burst into song, "yo tell you what I want what I really really want" just as young Stiles raised his head and began lip syncing along to the words. Simultaneously present Stiles covered his face with his hands and sunk deep into his chair hiding his red flushed face and grimace of shame, he mouthed to Garcia "how did you find this?!" Despair clear in his face but Garcia only smirked and flicked an eyebrow in response.

Everybody was silent throughout the video even when Scott came into the background, slung off a backpack and incredulously said, "dude". Finally it ended and Garcia switched the lights back on. All eyes were sucked towards Stiles who had sunk so low in his chair only his rib cage was actually on the seat. His hands still covered his face, he peeked through his fingers to a mixture of astonishment, hilarity, and confusion in everyone's expression. Morgan looked like he was going to speak but swallowed his words instead.

"I remember that..." Scott suddenly burst out laughing, "I came into your room after school and I was so confused. I can't believe you found that. Genius" when Scott broke into fits of giggles everyone too snapped and mirth enveloped the room as each person succumbed to the rich laughter. 

"Hey guys" JJ hiccuped, "can I tell you what I want"

"What I really really want?" Morgan finished falling into another round of hysterics 

"Oh my god you are terrible people and I will get my revenge" Stiles called out over the laughter

"Is that what you want?" Garcia giggled back

"What you really really want?" Lydia finished 

Stiles sighed and shook his head. He felt a smile tugging at his lips but resolutely crossed his arms over his chest and refused to meet any of their eyes. 

Hotch was the first to bring himself back under control but still spoke through a grin, "well after that enlightening experience I think we should call it a day" 

Stiles couldn't get out of the room quick enough, he hurried down the stairs leaving the echoes of his team in his wake. Other agents peered up at their conference room strangely. He gingerly bent down to lock his Bestiary drawer, exhaling through the persistent pain, and picked up his bag. Patiently he waited for his team to gather themselves up and come down.

When the did they still had humour glistening in their eyes he simply said, "I'm the adult here. I'm the professional"

"Yeah the professional singer" Morgan chuckled

Stiles merely shock his head and waited for Lydia and Scott. He swept his gaze around his office taking in the organised desks, tower blocks of files, narrow highways of jostling agents and thought back to his first day. Danger, fear, and pain had always been a threat in his life ever since Scott was bitten but he never felt different afterwards. Now he felt just that, a tingling anxiety kept him aware alongside a hyper-vigilance that haunted his thoughts. A psychiatrist had talked with Stiles back in Texas and warned him about such symptoms of PTSD, he had absorbed the words but not given much as a response. 

The airport had been quite stressful with bustling crowds of people making Stiles draw closer to Lydia, seeking her hand and pressing himself in her shoulder. His eyes had been wide and taking in everything; any person who looked too long at the group made Stiles' heart race a bit. Thankfully they didn't have to go through any long queues or be alongside many people but he still was paranoid about strangers. Stiles knew it was psychological but every sideways glance, brushed arm, or accidental bump from strangers made Stiles flinch inwardly. Outwardly he was not smiling nor joking around, apart from that he looked like himself. Scott kept giving him concerned glances, maybe he could hear his heart running away with worries, but it would have been hard for even him to hear his heart over the tumult of the airport. He most likely could smell it. 

The office held a different meaning to Stiles now. Previously it had been a fresh whirlwind of opportunity and excitement, now it was his unmoving roots, a place he could find solace and feel reassured. Most of those feelings came from the team, these small tables and chairs were their home, a pace where they worked, joked, cried. The office held a more profound significance now. 

"Hey, dreamer." Garcia's voice jerked him back to the present, "what are you going to do now?"

Stiles blinked, "oh I'm going to go back home. I still need to unpack. I mean all those boxes will make a great fortress."

Garcia wasn't fooled by his forced smile and placed her hand on his shoulder, "Stiles, seriously if you need anything, we are always here. We can help of you want?"

"I know. And thanks but honestly I'll be fine." He subtly pulled back from Garcia's touch and picked up his coat from he back of his chair. He gave her one last quick half smile before he began walking to the elevator, Lydia and Scott saw he was leaving and broke off their conversations with Reid and Rossi as they hurried after him. 

~~~~~~~

"Stiles we are unpacking right now." Lydia's voice was incredulous, "you've been here, what, three weeks and you still haven't unpacked?" 

"I was..." Stiles desperately tried to come up with a decent excuse but his brain decided it had shut up shop for the time being

"Hmm. Thought so." Lydia crossed her arms playfully and sucked on her teeth, "ok we will start with...you're living room." Stiles nodded and made to reach out for a box but Scott grabbed it,

"You're not doing it! You'll rip your stitches" 

Stiles rolled his eyes, "guys cmon, I need to do something. I'm bored."

"Fine then." Lydia handed him a towel, "go have a shower." 

Stiles snatched the towel from her grasp and flounced away. 

~~~~~~~

The steam from the shower fogged up the mirror making his figure a blurry shape. Stiles turned off the water and slowly wrapped the towel round his waist, his ribs still hurt and his collar bone had the last dregs of inflammation leaving it. Stiles stepped up to the mirror and wiped off the condensation. 

Not only was his psychologically scarred now but physically he was an etch-a-sketch of battle wounds. The waterfall of silver down his back was now joined by an ugly surgical scar from his internal bleeding which had a colourful array of purples, greens and yellows splotched around it as the old red blood cells died and faded, his leg too held a thick scar, pink against his skin. All the minor cuts had healed a while ago leaving either only the palest scar or no blemish at all. Bruises still scattered his body but in time those would fade too. 'Time heals all wounds' Stiles snorted softly as his eyes ghosted over his menagerie of injuries, his mouth becoming expressionless. 

The door clicked open and Lydia stepped around it, shutting it behind her. 

"Scott is just sorting out the heavier stuff"

"It pays to have a werewolf friend sometimes" Stiles drew Lydia into a hug, "the moulting is annoying"

Lydia smiled as she rested her head against Stiles' chest and brought her hand up to his shoulder and traced over the thin scar left from the glass shard that had embedded itself into his chest all those years ago when he fought the Desert Wolf, "he's not a dog"

"Man's best friend. He is my best friend and he is a werewolf...I rest my case"

Lydia chuckled as Stiles' voice reverberated in her ears, she stayed pressed against his chest listening to his heartbeat and his breathing. She realised then how close she had come to losing him, his heart was only beating because of his strength of character. His heart was the only sound she heard and as she thought about losing him she burst into tears

"Hey Lyds! What's wrong?" Stiles pulled her away to look at her face

"I thought I was going to loose you, and I can't...I don't want-" her tears tumbled down her face as she choked on her words, emotion clogging her throat, her eyes downwards as her fingers now ghosting over his other injuries, new and old. 

"Hey hey shhh" he brought her close to his chest again and wrapped his arms protectively around her, kissing the top of her bright locks he whispered, "I'm here now aren't I? You couldn't hug a ghost" 

Lydia hiccuped but slapped his shoulder, "don't say that"

"Ok ok I'm sorry. But seriously I'm fine, all thanks to you. My little banshee"

Lydia raised her glistening gaze to his loving amber eyes and she smiled, Stiles thought she looked beautiful: her make up all messy, hair slightly disheveled, high shoes off lowering her to her normal height, jumper hanging loose around her shoulders. Stiles leant down and kissed her.

At once their world was constricted to only themselves. The endless motion of the outside world vanished, the pressure of life lifted, and it was only them. Together. All the morphine in the world couldn't have given Stiles the feeling of release that he felt now. He pushed his fingers through her hair and cupped the back of her neck as she gripped his back and shoulders, careful to avoid his injures, she held him tighter never wanting to let go.


	30. The New World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Adele voice* This is the end
> 
> Thank you so so much for staying with me throughout this story and for inspiring me to keep writing! 
> 
> This isn't the end as I have in mind a part 2 with much more supernatural heavy theme. I will start to work on it now but I will post smaller fic ideas in the mean time.
> 
> As ever thank you so much for the comments and kudos they were so amazing. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Their evening passed quietly: Scott finished hauling the furniture around the room, Lydia organised all the lighter objects, and Stiles provided a continuous supply of food and drinks. Soon the dusky sky dissolved into a navy swamp and the trio flopped in Stiles’ living room. 

“I've missed the Pack” Stiles sighed, his arm looped around Lydia whose head rested on his shoulder eyes half lidded with sleep

“We've missed you” 

“I should try to come round soon. I mean I should try to complete a full week before asking to leave” he chuckled darkly 

“I'd like that. Also you'd never guessed who rang me recently.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow 

“Derek Hale.”

Stiles sat up straighter, “Derek Hale, Eyebrows himself, called you? Why”

“He asked if he could come back to Beacon Hills.”

“And?”

“Of course I said yes. He hasn't shown up yet but at least he gave me warning”

“How are the others? Any new additions?”

“Well Mason and Cory are together still, as are Liam and Hayden. Malia ever the lone wolf – or coyote – still is single but she's happy. There hasn't been much else apart from that.”

“What about you? A bachelor or are we to except werepuppies any time soon?”

Scott gently shoved Stiles and grinned, “not yet.”

A gentle knock at the door made them all jump, in response Stiles’ heart laced up its trainers and began to go for a run. Scott, hearing this, touched his shoulder. Stiles looked over to Scott and raised his eyebrows,

“I can’t smell them, there’s too many unknown smells.”

Stiles stood up eyes focused on the door, he stalked up to the door treading on the ball of his foot and pressing the rest ensuring his silence. 

The knock came again as Stiles halted beside the door, he peered through the peephole to see the back of someone’s head. Their hair was mousy brown and cut short, their shirt was purple… Stiles sighed and relaxed. 

“It’s Reid” he let his guard drop and opened the door, “hey man”

“Hi” Reid glanced round at Stiles

“What you doing here?”

“Um…I need to ask you something…” Reid was twisting his fingers together, fiddling with nothing 

“Sure do you wanna come in?”

“Thanks” 

As Stiles steeped back to let Reid enter, Scott and Lydia were brought into view. Reid, mid-step, froze. 

“You ok?” Stiles frowned, confused

“Yeah…um Stiles could I talk to you in private?”

Stiles was very confused but agreed, “has something come up?” Reid didn’t reply. Instead he asked Scott and Lydia to go into his bedroom, as Scott passed Stiles gave him a don’t-listen-in look and shut the door between them. 

“What’s going on, Reid?”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Reid went straight for the attack

“What do you mean?” Stiles was completely lost

Reid sighed and ran his hand through his hair then opened his mouth and words tumbled out in a great tirade: “At first I could convince myself it was nothing, chance maybe but statistically it would be infinitesimal and so unlikely to happen that when it did I didn’t even think about it. I mean there was also the added factor of your kidnapping but I should have thought it was strange how it happened and then-”

“Reid-”

“And then later when he said he ran here…he wasn’t out of breath and no one said anything. But it was in the boat that I saw it and…I couldn’t explain what happened. Either of the two events-”

“Reid!-”

“But finally it clicked in the hospital when I saw them on his arm that I knew, I knew something was wrong. Why it took me so long to notice this I don’t know but I can’t explain it and you seemed to unfazed by everything and-” 

“REID!” Finally Spencer broke off his constant stream of words and looked up at Stiles and halted his cyclic pacing, “what are you talking about?”

“There is something going on with you and your friends that makes no logical sense!”

Stiles felt his gut clench but feigned calm and crossed his arms over his chest, he noted Reid’s eyes flicking down to them, “Care to explain?”

“When you were taken in the Hôtel de Reve Lydia called at the exact time we were in your room. Not long after you were taken. She seemed to know something was wrong but she couldn’t tell up how she knew, she said it was that you call each other at regular times.”

“Yeah, we do”

“But her chances of her calling us at that time are so slim that only now, after everything, am I considering that something else was at play.” Stiles raised his eyebrows and waited for the big theory dreading what was coming next, he knew this part of his life could not stay long hidden, “Then on the boat when you fell in the water Theilia put her hand over Lydia when she looked like she was about to scream but her arm then moved like someone had pushed it really hard away from Lydia but I saw she didn’t move.” Stiles opened his mouth to interrupt but Reid ploughed on, “and Theilia, what is she? I mean when we first saw her I was convinced that her eyes were grey. Completely and solid grey. But…no one has grey eyes, I mean your iris can be a grey/blue but including the sclera and no pupil that can’t happen but I convinced myself it was the sun. It must’ve been, mustn’t it? And then when she was resuscitating you she was spitting out mouthfuls of water, you can’t suck water out of someone’s lungs so how was it in her mouth? And then when you finally came back your whole body jerked, just like how Theilia had with Lydia.” His eyes were wide and afraid, Stiles could see the very foundations of his understanding of the world cracking, unexplainable feats were not merely casting a shadow over his world but stomping all over it, Stiles made no effort to intervene this time knowing he should let him get everything off his chest, “and then Scott. I mean he’s a nice guy but he ran all the way from the police station to the lake without being out of breath? At all? And then at the hospital when he and Lydia were talking I woke up and saw black…lines moving up his arm. They moved, Stiles! His other hand covered most of it and underneath there was a tattoo so I could convince myself it was my mind after the sleep and stress. But now…after all that and undoubtably more I can’t convince myself anymore. There is something…different about them, Stiles. You must know seeing as you’ve had no change in expression this entire thing.”

Stiles glanced over his shoulder at the bedroom door where his supernatural friends were undoubtably listening and sighed, “sit down”

“No, Stiles-”

“Sit” Reid saw the determined look in Stiles’ eye and sat down on the couch, Stiles mirrored him and leant back on the pillows, “Spencer…what I’m about to say, you can’t tell anyone.”

“But-”

“Anyone, Reid. I’m serious. If this gets out…let’s just say it nearly ended by home town last time.”

“What did?”

“The supernatural”

Reid didn’t react at all. He sat still, hands in his lap, slightly leant forwards, expression confused and nervous. His face gradually slid into sceptical humour, “ok. The supernatural? Werewolves? vampires?”

Stiles nodded, “werewolves yeah. Haven’t found any vampires yet, but we’ve had worse.” Stiles could see Reid wasn’t at all believing him, most likely thinking this was a side effect of the drugs, “I can prove it. If you want?”

Reid drew back slightly, his brows knitting together, “uh…how? Those things don’t exist.” 

“Well then I lived in a world made up of things that aren’t supposed to exist.” Stiles then spoke Scott’s name at normal volume and watched Reid’s expression morph into surprise and fear when Scott stepped out of the bedroom. Stiles puffed out his cheeks, “Spencer. I’m giving out one last chance to leave now, this stuff isn’t your average case. This will change your entire world irreversibly.”

“Aren’t you making this a bit dramatic?” Lydia asked following Scott, “it doesn’t ‘tear a hole in the fabric of reality’ or whatever you were about to say.”

“Aw cmon, it’s such a great line.” Stiles grinned at her over the back of the couch, but he then nodded and became serious once more, “but seriously, you can still go home now.”

Reid had watched their interactions, his mind whirling, there was obviously no such thing as the supernatural, but maybe Scott was some genetic anomaly and they wished o keep it secret. Reid wasn’t planning on leaving, no matter what Stiles claimed, the drugs were making him slightly delusional, after a few days he would be back to normal but Reid could not ignore that there was something strange about his friends. And he was determined to find out what. 

Stiles huffed out a breath of air and rubbed the wound on his thigh, grimacing, “fine” he waved a hand at Scott, “I wouldn’t go the whole way though. Just the usual”

Scott nodded and turned to face Reid fully. He kept eye contact with the agent and felt the scarlet bleed into his dark irises, he opened his mouth slightly to show his fangs drop and stretched his fingers to allow Reid to see his claws. 

Reid could not believe what he was seeing. It went against everything he had ever learnt, believed, and known. The person before him morphed from a crooked-jawed young man into a entirely new creature. Blood eyes glared at him, talons curved from fingertips and fangs glinted in the duck light. However, he did not run. Now did he shout. He was completely still, just as a mouse freezes under the scrutiny of an owl. 

“Reid, you ok?” Stiles tentatively ventured his question 

Reid stared at the monster before him, his expression one of dawning realisation, “I have to go” he leapt to his feet, the desperate feeling of needing to escape consuming every other thought. But a hand clamped down on his arm and held him from leaving, Reid turned back to see Scott, once more human (but was he ever human in the first place?), gripping his bicep with an impossibly strong grip

“Scott stop. You’re not helping” Stiles sounded tired like they’ve already been through this, “he won’t leave though.”

“What makes you think that?” Reid’s voice was breathy with fear

“Because I know you’re too intrigued to leave. You want to understand this.” He shrugged, “I know that cos that was my thought process when Scott was first bitten.”

“You should sit down though. And try to slow your breathing, you could pass out if you hyperventilate. Your heart is beating very fast too” Reid once more snatched his gaze back to Scott

“Yeah I think that’s due to seeing my best friend shift into a red eyed werewolf. Tends to freak those out who aren’t used to it.”

“How…”

“Sit back down and I’ll explain everything.”

Reid was conflicted. If he stayed he would be locked in a room with Scott but if he left he would never know. That integral part of his psyche, that insatiable desire for knowledge won out in his mental battle and he slowly made his way over to the couch, sitting right on the corner, tense and nervous. At the same time hardly containing his curiosity. 

“What do you want to know?” Stiles opened the floor to questions

“What are you?”

“He’s a werewolf. Lycanthrope. Wolf Man. Scooby Doo. Take your pick.”

“Are you being serious?” 

“Deadly. But he doesn’t turn into Lon Chaney’s ‘Wolf Man’. That hair is just excessive. Nor does he turn into a wolf ‘American Werewolf in London’ style. Yes he can touch silver, no he doesn’t tear out the throat of a virgin every month. He does have enhanced healing, strength, senses, and endurance. He is also susceptible to wolfsbane, mistletoe, and  
Mountain ash. He is the alpha of our Beacon Hills Pack hence the red eyes. Betas and Omegas have ave yellow. However if they have ever killed theirs eyes turn blue. Alphas often have to kill another to become one but Scott here is a True Alpha. No death involved." 

Reid quickly absorbed this, “but how did this happen. How can he change?”

“When we were 16 I brought Scott into the woods to find a body. Well, half a body. Scott had asthma then and fell behind. One thing led to another and he got bitten by another Alpha. This then meant he had to learn to control his wolf. In conclusion, he have fought many supernatural monsters, defended our home and saved many lives. We aren’t the bad guys.”

“What other supernatural creatures are there?”

“Innumerable. There are undoubtably many undiscovered yet, but we have felt with a fair few: werecoyotes, kitsunes, demons, megalomaniac alpha packs, chimeras, supernatural scientists, a group of ghost riders, and banshees. Like Lydia.”

Reid now looked at Lydia, “wait. You’re one too?”

She nodded, “yeah, I’m a banshee.”

“I thought they were meant to be…”

“Ugly? Well thankfully I break that mould” she flashed him a smile and flicked her hair behind her shoulders, “but I only became one after the same Alpha who bit Scott bit me.”

“So why aren’t you a werewolf?”

“My body rejected the bite, but it still affected me and I became a banshee.” She saw how Reid was trying to rationalise and compartmentalise this information, “I guess it was my body reacting to a new disease if you think about it that way?” He looked up and nodded. 

“You’re taking this very well…” Stiles spoke, “part of me is worried you’re still not understanding”

“No no I understand. It’s just…comprehending this that’s taking a while. I can’t deny that the supernatural exist now, but knowing that it is reality? That is what is making me unsteady.”

“In the office I have a book in my desk called the Bestiary. It’s full of information on every known supernatural being.” Stiles stood up slowly, his leg still giving him some grief and walked to his laptop. In its case was a small USB, “this is the electronic copy of the Bestiary. I know you like books and stuff but this should do for now. You can borrow the hard copy tomorrow. This should answer all your questions.” Stiles threw it at Reid who caught it, “but you cannot tell anyone about this. I can’t express how important that is. If word gets out that we had monsters running around all hell would break loose. As I said earlier, we have come very close to that before.”

“Got it” Reid stood up staring at the USB, “so” he looked back up at Stiles, Scott and Lydia, “is this what we couldn’t find in your file? Your involvement with the cases?”

“Most of the cases were supernatural ones so we naturally has to step in.” Lydia answered, “it just helped that Stiles’ dad’s the Sheriff and Scott’s mum’s a nurse.”

Reid understood Stiles much more now; he unflappable nature around victims has been developed over years of exposure to death, the natural awareness after plenty of field experience, his research capabilities all derived from his youth finding out information about monsters that should only exist in fiction. 

Reid shut the door behind himself but didn’t walk away. He leant against the door holding the USB in the open palm of his hand, held in that small piece of metal and plastic was a whole new universe of understanding. 

His world was about to get so much bigger.


End file.
